Harmony: The Early Years
by Cassandra3
Summary: It's 1693. This bodice-ripping yarn, spins a tale about young Tabitha's date with destiny. There's the witches liberation movement, handsome guys in un-ee-forms...and naughty Alistar Crane
1. Default Chapter

Chapter 1. 1694  
  
Young Tabitha Lennox, walked along the waggon path that led to Harmony village with a basket of freshly picked herbs. Her golden hair, loose and lovely fell over her shoulders and down her back. There was a light step in her gait, happy to be in this new country, free of the turmoil of the old country in England.  
  
Her blue eyes gazed dreamily over the freshly tilled fields of the Silas Russell farm, where Maizie Russell waved to her over the hillock. She raised her arm and waved back to her friend, with a smile on her face enjoying the pleasantness of the summer day. Maizie and Tabitha were friends, they had shared their secrets of the healing arts and medicinal plants. Maizie had quite a talent for healing the sick, gathered from the local Abnakie tribe and was not wont to use the town physician's quack methods of Blood-letting and leeches.  
  
When she set her eyes back to the road, she found she had run smack into the austere personage of Master Alistar Crane. He had grasped her by the shoulders with his long bony fingers. Where had he come from so suddenly? The road was empty just a few moments ago. Master Crane's shadow towered over her, enveloping her in an eerie chill. He was a tall man, thin whisps of gray hair, his age somewhere about five and forty. Master Crane owned the mill by the woods, and the locals were not fond of him and usually stayed away from his company.  
  
"Tabitha Lennox" he said.  
  
She gazed at his cold dark eyes, wondering what he wanted of her. She shoved his hands away, took a step back and held her basket tighter. Master Crane produced a rose bud out of nowhere, reached forward and tucked it into the top button hole of her bodice.  
  
"Master Crane!" Tabitha was shocked at his boldness.  
  
"I wish to be acquainted with such a wild English Rose as yourself." Alistar's eyes admired the rosebud, which set off a pink blush to her neck, and then his eyes rose to her face.  
  
From behind Alistar, a woman whose hair was as red as a new penny cackled. "Must you dally with this silly wench, Alistar?"  
  
Tabitha closed her eyes tightly, having recognized the frazzle of hair, her deep brown eyes, the look of contempt upon her face as she scowled down at her and placed her arms upon her hips.  
  
"Perhaps Mistress Lennox would enjoin us with a glass of claret this fine day?" Alistar said.  
  
Tabitha threw her chin up in air. "Indeed, I would not."  
  
The red-haired woman pushed Alistar aside. "Who needs such an incompetant.!"   
  
"I do not care for the company you keep, Master Crane. I will be on my way." Tabitha said.  
  
"You are just envious of my powers." The red haired woman smiled. "I excelled in the dark arts, while you fumbled along with your miserable plants and powders-trying to heal the worthless inhabitants of London. Ha! A waste of training."  
  
"Hecuba, thy wicked ways nearly got me burned in England! Why didst thou follow me to the colonies?"  
  
Hecuba tossed her red hair over her shoulder. "For the fun of it. It was me who helped you escape the flames! But are you grateful?"  
  
Tabitha shook her head. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have had to leave..."  
  
"I would prefer that you two lovely ladies desist your bickering and join me at my house." Alistar commanded.  
  
"I have plants to tend to."  
  
Alistar side-glanced Hecuba with a knowing look. "Perhaps the village of Harmony would find your past history of infinate interest, my dear. Accused of witchcraft? I'm sure the Reverend Strout will want to hear all."  
  
"Twas her, who burned the house down in London! Not I!" Tabitha said defensively.  
  
"She can't seem to abide taking responsibility for her actions." Hecuba grinned.  
  
"I want nothing to do with Hecuba or Witchcraft!" Tabitha railed.  
  
Hecuba grabbed on to Alistar's arm, shaking it. "You should see her work with the magnetick needle, dear Alistar. She can conjure up the powers of the Telluric currents...you don't want to let her walk off like that...."  
  
"Telluric currents?" Alistar grabbed hold of Tabitha's shoulder.  
  
Hecuba nodded. "Yes, the invisible lines on the earth that the birds and animals migrate by...This little lady inspired Isaac Newton toward his universal law of gravity by bonking him on the head with an apple."  
  
"Holy Lucifer!"   
  
"Leave me be! That was scientifick methods, nothing magical, no dark arts! The natural world has many untapped powers on its own merit without having to conjure up the Devil!" Tabitha said.  
  
"Oh, that's right. I forgot to mention, Alistar. Tabitha considers herself a naturalist. She prefers the natural powers of the unseen world, rather than seek help from THE MASTER. I first ran into her at Salisbury Plain, at Stonehenge...watching the rising sun on the equinox." Hecuba seemed pleased. "It was a good place to find recruits to the dark side."   
  
Alistar thought about everything that was said, concerning Tabitha's discomfort with the dark arts. He whispered to Hecuba's ear. "It would be wickedly delicious to persuade the maiden over to the dark side."  
  
Hecuba shrugged, eyeing her competition. "And no doubt, you will enjoy corrupting the maiden."  
  
Alistar's eyebrows raised up wickedly. He broke out a slight grin.   
  
"Tabitha Lennox, I am obliged, as head of the Town Council to inform the congregation of Harmony of any wicked misdeeds from our villagers. Shall I call them to a meeting tonight?"  
  
Tabitha stared at Master Crane, noting his implacable aloofness, his sense of power and control. He had obviously joined with Hecuba in some sort of evil business, was part of it. Was Master Crane a witch also? A warlock? What if she were to point him out as a warlock? Would anyone believe the herbalist who troubled no one? Or would they believe Harmony's most prominent and wealthiest citizen, like Master Alistar Crane over her?   
  
"All right, I go with ee" Tabitha said begrudgingly. "But none of your evil business for me!" Tabitha walked aside Master Crane, who was stealing glances down the front of her cotton frock.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2:

Chapter 2.   
Alistar helped Hecuba and Tabitha step down from the carriage. They followed Master Crane to the steps of the large house and Tabitha took a look around for the first time. She saw workers constructing a very large garden, a maze across the park.   
  
The Crane lands boasted the largest dwelling in Harmony. Maizee Russell had told Tabitha that the Cranes spared no expense in ordering the finest materials and furnishings from England to give opulent splendor to the place.   
  
Clearly, Tabitha thought, it was immensely impressive to a country girl, like herself. Marble columns and Venetian statues ornately carved from the Italian masters in Carrara Italy, oriental rugs from Turkey, the most delicate egg shell porcelain and silks from China, and Crystal from the Carpathian mountains of Bavaria. Cherry wood highboys and china cabinets inlaid with walnut veneer and brass fittings. Silver mined from the Indian slaves in Mexico to create candle trees and silverware....   
  
Tabitha knew that the other inhabitants of Harmony lived in no better than plain wooden houses, simply furnished with objects they had bartered for or hewn by their own hands.  
  
Hecuba kept a watchful eye on the golden haired lass as they walked through the foyer to the sitting room.  
  
"Are you not pleased, Mistress Lennox?" Alistar's hand waved around the room proudly.  
  
"Aye, it makes me wonder how a miller would come into to such wealth?" Tabitha said.  
  
"I'm a good businessman." He sat in a plush chair, spreading out his long legs. "I have other investments besides the saw mill. I own a fleet of East India men that travel as far as Canton China, and shipping interests in Mexican gold." Alistar said.  
  
Hecuba smiled. "The opium trade made him a rich man."   
  
"Be still!" Alistar gave Hecuba a steely glance. "I will send my sons to Yale College, and they will study law."  
  
"You have no sons, Alistar." Hecuba said snippishly.  
  
"Oh, but I will." He said with confidence, staring at Tabitha.  
  
After the servant brought the claret, Tabitha grew increasingly more uncomfortable, feeling his icy stare boring into her soul. "Well, thank you for the refreshment, but I've work at home to attend to."  
  
Alistar nodded. "You know my dear, if you were to come work for me, you wouldn't have to toil so hard. All alone on that tiny little plot of land, with no one to help you. A woman alone in the world is vulnerable to all types of vermin."  
  
"Work for you?" The room seemed to spin, and Tabitha's stomach churned.   
  
"I've been watching you, Mistress Lennox, and I think you and I have much in common. We could conduct profitable business together here in Harmony."  
  
Tabitha felt uneasy, perhaps it was the claret that made her head spin. "Business? You do all right on your own. What need would you have of my skills?"  
  
Alistar nodded to Hecuba, who stood up and exited the room. He couldn't help wearing a laschivious grin. "Yes, with your innate natural gifts for...shall we say...getting along with the residents of this town, and with an ally of the powers of darkness, there would be nothing stopping you and I from achieving greatness."  
  
"You're talking about Witchcraft." She said emphatically.  
  
Alistar threw his head back and smiled. "That's what I like about you, Tabitha, your candor. Witchcraft is inextricably mixed with politics, which I'm good at. It plays in the affairs of Kingdoms, and all classes are affected, from Popes to peasant, from Queens to cottage girls."  
  
Tabitha put her glass on the table. "I've no need for such art. My herb gardens serve me well enough."  
  
"Oh, but I think you have other skills that would profit you more." Alistar's eyes scanned the room for any trace of Hecuba. She seemed to have gone. "You'd show much more wisdom and tact than Hecuba, who is quite arrogant. The works you would be able to do...lets just say, would be called miraculous, as they would exceed human knowledge...from its very nature, for it is not done naturally."  
  
"Sir, I've no need of the magic arts, I've told you so." Tabitha explained.  
  
"Magicians make miracles, my dear...like good Christians make miracles."  
  
"Christians work miracles by Divine justice in the universe, just as there is a public law in the land." Tabitha tried to reason with him.  
  
"Law...hmmm. But the Magician, since he works through a pact entered into with the devil, works independently by private contract; and it would be viewed as a miracle, of sorts." Alistar said.  
  
"It is only God and nature who can work miracles. Anything outside of that, is wickedness." Tabitha swept up her basket of herbs, feeling the intense heat from the hearth making her feel feverish.  
  
"Everyone is, by direct understanding the cause of his own wickedness. You just don't seem to be aware of your own yet. Oh, yes there is the influence of the stars, and the impulse is received as a natural inclination to human virtue or vice." Alistar struck a flame to his pipe and puffed. "But the works of witches is outside the common order of nature."  
  
"I'm sorry, Master Crane, but I'm not interested in your contract." Tabitha stood up.  
  
"No? Be that as it may, you've no sweetheart in Harmony do you? Not enough eligible or worthy men around." Alistar's eyes fell over her handsome figure. He put his pipe down and approached the young woman.  
  
"Tis none of your business, thou wretch." Tabitha edged back. The room had grown very warm. And why was there a fire in the hearth on this warm day?  
  
"How wildly you talk! Who but Tabitha Lennox, is wont to go about Harmony, adorned most extravagantly in her person? Your gait, posture and habit, in which resides a vanity of vanities. I am not blind. In fact, I see everything that goes on in this town." Alistar brought his hand out, plucked the rose bloom slowly from her bodice, brought it to his nose, smiled and then he tossed it away. "And now, you have bewitched me, ever so sweetly."  
  
"Why do you persecute me? Stay away from me, Master Crane, or I'll..." Tabitha felt the wall against her back, hot from the heat of the fireplace.  
  
"You'll do what?"   
  
"I'll...tell the magistrate...the Minister! Keep thy distance."  
  
"By my soul...such a little witch with your words! And who would believe you?" Her grief, her tears I employ the Magistrate, I pay his wages...and as for the Minister..." He laughed. "I can easily obtain copies of the London court assizes to prove you have been tried and convicted of witchcraft."  
  
"How could you do such a thing? I will deny it. I've never hurt a soul!" Tabitha felt his arms encircle her waist in an iron cold grip. His body had no warmth.  
  
"Oh, but you've no remorse in hurting me, denying my affections. They'd burn you at the stake, my sweet. Do'st thou prefer the flames?" He kissed her cheek, where a single tear had rolled down the side of her face. His tongue lapped it up in one stroke. Her grief, her tears moved him.  
  
"You're a vile man, my soul is above you." She said with a scornful air.  
  
"Soul?" He laughed.  
  
"I beg of you, release me at once, and I'll never tell anyone!"  
  
"You misinterpret everything I do." He said.  
  
"I'll cry for help!"   
  
"My servants are paid well, they attend me only when bidden to do so."  
  
"Unhand me! I will do as I please, and go whither I please!" She tried kicking him through her skirts, but his wirey legs entwined hers in a tight lock. "You will be sorry if you don't let me go!"  
  
"Will I? I think not. And what will thee do, Tabitha Lennox? Invoke the stars in their courses? Consult the Telluric Winds? You compell me. I should not hinder you in anything..."  
  
Tabitha couldn't help but consider all the means that existed in the known universe to wreak vengeance upon this wicked man who had trapped her in his snare. She was the hunted rabbit, caught in his perilous gin.  
  
"Your face is like the burning wind" He said like the hissing of serpents. "You can save me from perdition, for I am the greatest villain on earth. You've bewitched me, that is what I will say if you oppose me." He nibbled on her ear, and then he moved his lips down her neck.  
  
"God, forgive me! For I am stabbed to the heart by your cruelty, thou are the vilest of creatures." Her back pressed to the floor. No one came to Tabitha's cries for help.  
  
"Why, Tabitha Lennox, those tears, are they for me? ....You're very, very sweet. Why, I believe I am the first man to ravish you!"  
  
The CRAFT. Tabitha thought of the CRAFT. It sprung up in her thoughts so clearly, though she had never before been so inclined to consider it's potential use. She would learn the CRAFT, by all that was Holy and UnHoly. She would destroy this wicked man. Witchcraft ... she never understood before how one might come to an inordinate love of hatred that spanned far beyond all time and space.  
  
  
  
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	3. Chapter 3:

Chapter 3.   
They kept her in a place Alistar called Hecuba's lair for about four weeks. It was some deep underground chamber, where the witch Hecuba had accumulated many worldly things of value. Paintings, sculpture, jewelry, furniture and objects pertaining to the dark arts. Tabitha also was privy to see the potions and talismans that Hecuba used in her witchcraft. It was too dissimilar in apothocary methods from that which had been taught in England, by Cecilia, the Healer and Divinator who had brought her up.   
  
She could not recall how she had come to be in this dark abode. They must have drugged her with something in the wine.  
  
They had brought her food, which she refused to eat, until the 4th day, starvation won out and she ate a bit of porridge and water to sustain herself.   
  
A prisoner! Tabitha thought angrily. Of some vile plot. All she could think of was doing herself in. Foxglove, Belladona, Hemlock....Nightshade...it would be easy for someone like Tabitha, who knew the secrets of plants. Perhaps there was some here in this cave.  
  
I would be better off dead! T'would be better off, underground.  
  
Will the townsfolk have missed me? Not if they knew of my past.   
  
I am merely a maiden undone, and no more than that.   
  
She knew of the old tales, the warnings given to young women about evil men, who corrupted and seduced young women against their will, like Alistar Crane.   
  
It was, but a tale that is told.   
  
She had heard of such things happening to many young women, milkmaids, servants, cottage girls caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. So what makes my misery any different from theirs?  
  
Alistar is much worst than those men. He was evil. He has doings with the Devil.  
  
Tabitha wrapped the blanket around herself, chilled to the bone. She looked into the mirror hanging on the cave wall. She stared back at her pale reflection, although nothing other than loss of weight seemed physically altered. And yet, there was something different about her eyes, some quality of sadness that had not been there before. Something deeper, older.....more ancient...  
  
She turned away from her reflection and sat down on one of Hecuba's highback chairs.  
  
"So, I see that the Beauty is up and about. It's nearly mid-day." Hecuba said scornfully.  
  
Tabitha ignored her, staring down at the floor.  
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
"Nauseous, if you must know." Tabitha said without feeling.  
  
Hecuba's eyes brightened. "Oh, come now. It wasn't as bad as all that. You'll get over it. Will you have a bit of breakfast then?" Hecuba scrutinized Tabitha, as if trying to read her inner most thoughts. Hecuba produced a plate of greasy eggs and ham out of thin air.   
  
"Take it away, I'm going to be sick." Revolted, Tabitha covered her mouth and swallowed back the bile.  
  
Hecuba threw chin head up, as if hearkening to a sound no one else could hear, she drew closer to the young woman and peered into her eyes. She murmurred a few incantations...stood still, waited and then placed her hand over Tabitha's abdomen. A flash of teeth showed in her great smile, Hecuba was grinning ear to ear. She jumped up and down.  
  
"Am I to be kept his prisoner here forever? Vile one?"  
  
"I believe you will be released today. IT IS ACCOMPLISHED!" Hecuba could hardly contain her excitement and vanished from the chamber without another word.  
  
  
  
Tabitha took to the fields on her way home from the Crane property. It was not long after that cryptic conversation with Hecuba, that she found herself outside the great house. Hecuba did not explain, nor threaten her.   
  
The gameskeepers gave her a knowing look, nodded their heads as if they were privy to the goings on inside the walls of the house. They said nothing to her as she passed. They slung their muskets over their shoulders...going about the business in seeking the usual Harmony poachers.   
  
For some reason, Tabitha thought, they seemed to be aware of all that occurred. But perhaps, she reasoned, her heightened state of awareness made her intensely paranoid. She consciously avoided the adjoining Russell farm. Careful not to run into Maizee Russell, for she could not bear the burden of what had happened to her with anyone. And who would understand? No one. No one would believe her.  
  
All they would come to know, if she were ever to tell the truth, was that she had once been tried and convicted of witchcraft in the old world.   
  
Tabitha laughed bitterly to herself. This new world was not that much different from the old. Full of the same superstition, prejudice and fears.  
  
It was a glorious day, resplendent with a bright blue sky, birds twittering in the trees and all seemed well with the world. The glorious day seemed to mock her in her troubles. She thought about the old saying "The sun shines as gloriously upon the just and the unjust."  
  
The grasses and wildflowers were knee high, droning with the strum of bees and the fluttering wings of singing birds and butterflies. The early hay mowing would commence soon.   
  
She avoided the main road and kept her solitude by using the wooded paths, used by woodsmen and hunters. The graveyard on the top of the hill seemed to call to her, and she crossed through the gate. Many of the grave stones had been obliterated with the upheavals of freezes and thaws, tree roots and the Harsh New England winters. Their inscriptions were barely legible. Her eyes fell upon the stone cutters shed, where she spied a pile of rubble, the broken gravestones cast aside in a heap. The church sexton kept his tools there. But she liked this peaceful place and continued deeper toward the space designated as unhallowed ground. It was located at the back of the graveyard, in an inconspicuous lonely corner. It was the site where drunkards, the unbaptized and women of ill repute were interred.   
  
Under the shade of a Witch Hazel tree, she sat down out of weariness, then lay back under its bows staring up at the sky through the dapple of foliage. Her arms crossed over her body like a corpse and she slept.  
  
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The sun's arc was low in the sky to the west when Tabitha woke up. One month had passed the solstice since her ordeal. She considered the wheeling of the celestial bodies that signaled the fullness of summer, the promise of growing things, sweet summer nights and the fruition of Harvest Time.   
  
She brushed the seeds and stems from her frock and left the tree, for the sun dipped far below the trees and melted into twighlight. She preferred the twighlight, the winking stars, the rising of the lunar disk, the owl stirring in the thickets, the in-between netherworld that was neither night nor day. She felt somehow, a kindred spirit to the netherworld, as if it were a place for lost souls.   
  
She felt suddenly weak with the first pangs of grief, this thing that had come to her.   
  
"I always thought it was going to be different. I thought it would be sweet and loving...and it would be with a tender young man who cherished me....But it was none of that." She gripped herself and held back the tears, hardening herself to all sentiment and self- pity.   
  
It was rape, and that was all.  
  
Tabitha Lennox left something of herself behind, beneath the bows of that old Witch Hazel tree in the lonesomeness of the neglected graveyard. She left behind something of herself that she could not name.   
  
Another Tabitha Lennox had left her, and she came back to Harmony never again.  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4: Jeremiah Fitzgerald

Chapter 2. Fitzgerald  
  
From the railing of the "Passion Flower" Captain Jeremiah Fitzgerald peered with anticipation at the British North American coastline. The Passion Flower was a seventy-six feet long, two-hundred and twenty ton bark out of New Bedford. Jeremiah was very proud of his merchant trader ship, having earned enough money to purchase one 6 years go and go into business for himself.   
  
He detected slightly, the scent of the land, the sweet Maine pine forests wafting toward them over the waves. He took in a deep lung-full, loving the freedom of the sea.  
  
His dark thoughtful eyes sought out the familiar landmarks of Harmony, but they were still too far away to discern anything without an extension glass. They had made good time on their journey from the West Indies, making use of the favorable gulf stream currents to exceed a speed of 16 knots.  
  
Jeremiah was an extremely striking-looking young man. His broad shoulders and muscular arms had been built up from a life at sea. His cap lay far back on his head showing his dark, reddish brown hair and a broad forehead and strong jaw. Deeply bronzed by the equatorial sun, Jeremiah Fitzgerald drew the eyes of many women in all the ports. He had gone to sea at the age of eleven, a brave, commanding man in his bearing and had earned the respect of all his men. Serious and thoughtful, his dark brown eyes had a flicker of mischief and adventure.   
  
"Mr. Standish," He addressed the first mate.  
  
"Aye, sir." The first mate replied behind the ship's wheel.  
  
"Call all hands, we will make ready to take in sail."  
  
"ALL HANDS!" Standish bellowed.  
  
"In less than two hours, we should be walking down the streets of Harmony." Jeremiah smiled, showing straight white teeth.  
  
"It's been a long time, sir."  
  
"Yes, five years is a long time."  
  
  
The Passion flower dropped anchor in the port of Harmony at mid-day. Half the crew were allowed ashore, while the others remained to unload the cargo. Jeremiah had checked his manifest and locked away the important papers in the strongbox, then climbed up the hatchway.  
  
Captain Fitzgerald was about to cross from the gangway to the dock when a tall gentleman with stringy hair, wearing a long black cloak and a funny Dutch style hat, smoked a pipe and barred his way.   
  
"A word, Captain." The man said with an imperious air.  
  
Jeremiah looked up, tensing his right fist, but kept his temper. He cocked his long leg on the railing. To himself he muttered, "By God! These small town officials are all alike."   
  
"Sir?" he was so grilled into showing the proper respect to his elders that he addressed most people with perfunctory SIR or MADAM. "I didn't catch your name."  
  
"Crane. Alistar Stoke Crane." The man said.  
  
"And what can I do for you today, Mr. Crane?" Jeremiah said, rubbing his stubby powerful chin.  
  
"As a member of Harmony's Town Council, and direct representative to King William, I must inform you that you must cease your men from unloading this cargo."   
  
The crew heard the order and looked bewildered.   
  
"You will remove yourself from this vessell." Crane seemed to crack a smile, but his face was hidden by shadow that it was difficult to discern.   
  
"I am captain and owner of this ship, and no one tells me or my crew what to do, you hear that?"  
  
"You are in error, Captain. There are unpaid taxes, bank notes....Captain Fitzgerald, you are a debtor." Alistar Crane said.  
  
"Listen, you insufferable little worm...this is my ship, and I don't know what you've been drinking, but I've got business to attend to. So get the hell out of my way." Jeremiah elbowed Crane.  
  
First mate, Mark Standish watched all this with a worried look. He had first heard of Crane from letters written from his family who were concerned about the growing power of this ruthless businessman Alistar Stoke Crane. They had told him how many of the local families lost their lands to him, and how he had much political influence.  
  
"You have failed to render to the Crown ...importation, stamp sugar, tea and duty taxes from the Passion Flower's trading profits. We've been overly lenient in the past, but it will no longer be permitted. And...Your promisary note for payment on this ship is long overdue...."  
  
"By God! I'll have you know that this ship was bought and paid for in full. The documents are recorded in with the attorneys Randall and Winthrop of New Bedford."  
  
Alistar Crane produced a lengthy document, with the seal of the King. "I am the holder of that bank note, from Randall and Winthrop, who happen to work for me in New Bedford...they have informed me that there is no record of it having been paid. How curious."  
  
"Then you're a damn liar. I have my original copy in my strong box." Jeremiah said.  
  
Alistar Crane nodded and grinned. "The police are rounding the docks as we speak."  
  
Jeremiah grabbed Alistar Crane by the coat. "Police? What for? I have committed no crime. I can prove ownership of this vessell, and my tax payments are recorded at the Exchange House in Portland." With fury he shoved the wormy mannered Alistar Crane into the railing, losing his control. "You got that?"   
  
"The legal British courts of William and Mary have received no tax payments recorded anywhere..." Alistar said under a choke hold "under a decree of Parliament...they can confiscate your vessel for lack of payment to the Crown! Unhand me, you wiley Irish scum, or you will not live to see another day!"  
  
Jeremiah peered over at the 20 riflemen aiming their muskets at him, while the 8 others ascended below-decks, apparently to confiscate the ship's log and the strongbox containing his documents.  
  
"What of my ship?" Jeremiah shouted insanely.  
  
"Your ship?" He gave a laugh. "It will become part of Crane shipping lines, as I have paid your back taxes to the Crown, I already own it."  
  
"God Almighty, I'll kick your head in, you stinking bastard! STANDISH! Secure the strongbox!"  
  
Before Standish could move across the deck toward the hatchway, a soldier had pointed his bayonet into the man's back, breaking his skin. In a few moments, the other soldier had gone below and brought out the strongbox.  
  
"Deliver it to the Crane properties, and guard it with your life."  
  
"Yes sir." The soldier left with Fitzgeralds original documents, and anything of value.  
  
"You've removed governmental legal documents....and drew up your own...." He was raging while the crew looked down the barrells of muskets, their hands rose above their heads. Jeremiah raised Alistar Crane up in his brawny hold and was about to toss him overboard. At the time, he had not thought what kind of influence and political power the man must have...  
  
"You have one option open to you, captain----in order to avoid imprisonment! You can work your debt off to me, as captain of this ship and do as I command, or...rot in jail till the British Courts hang you from a gibbet for abusing a British Magistrate. What do you say?"  
  
"Only if you pay my crew their wages..."   
  
"It will be incorporated in your debt to me..."  
  
By the time the militia had surrounded Jeremiah, he had no choice but to release the man, although perhaps he had slipped his footing, because he dropped Alistar Crane overboard into the foul and smelly dockside water. "All right, you thieving bastard, I'll work for you."   
  
Fitzgerald had eventually been released by the militia. The first place Jeremiah Fitzgerald, now indentured to work for Alistar Crane and his good friend Standish headed to was the local pub where he got stinking drunk.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5:

By harvest time, Tabitha knew she was pregnant. The morning sickness, the swelling abdomen, and her missing monthly. She had tried to hide it from Maizee Russell by covering herself in extravagant clothing that would hide her belly.   
  
"Tabitha," Maizee asked her one day in the herb garden, "when is your child due?" Her beautiful brown eyes scanned the young woman knowingly. "In the spring?"  
  
Tabitha said nothing.  
  
"People are beginning to talk. You must make this young man marry you."  
  
Tabitha hung her head down. "He will never marry me."  
  
"No-just take him to the Minister and make him take responsibility." Maizee said. "Get hitched before any more time goes by. You know how cruel they are in this town, and what happened to that Leeds girl when she...."  
  
"That will never happen." Tabitha said impassively.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because he's married."  
  
Maizee took a step back. She placed her herb bundle down and put her arms around Tabitha."What are you going to do?"  
  
"I don't know." Tabitha said.  
  
"They will cast you out! There are folks in Harmony that don't take kindly to...well, you know." Maizee felt Tabitha shudder.  
  
Tabitha hung her head back, glancing at the open fields.  
  
"Well, listen here...I've got some family on Malaga Island. They are mostly fisher-folk. You can stay there till the baby comes." Maizee said. "Shall I write them?  
  
"I'm not going to run away." Tabitha stepped away and plucked a few leafs from a sage plant.  
  
"But they'll put you in the stocks, and everyone will snub you, even the children. No one will buy your herbs. They'll make a spectacle of you."  
  
Tabitha shrugged. "Not when they hear who the father is."  
  
"What? Who is he?"  
  
Tabitha bit her lip. "I cannot say any more."  
  
Maizee approached her again. "Tell me, Tabitha... in July you didn't go off to a distant relation in Portland did you? Who is the father of your child?"  
  
The herbs had all been cut and were being prepared for drying, poultices and ointments.   
"I think you had better go now, my dear friend. And you should probably not come here anymore."  
  
Maizee Russell protested, but she knew Tabitha was right. The Russell's dairy business, situated next to the Crane land would suffer if they associated with an unwed mother. Tabitha made Maizee go, telling her she wanted to rest. Tabitha sat down on the porch swing. It was true, she was overly tired and weary with worry. Her eyes closed and she thought about the Craft. She had shunned most of the teachings she learned from Hecuba in England but she did not forget them. She would sell her soul to no one.  
  
If only she could dispense with her earthly, womanly body...and use the Power of the Craft to make her pregnancy vanish. She knew such measures would open the doors to the Forces of the Dark Side. They would put her in their debt. Nothing for nothing. And Tabitha had always desired never to be in debt to anyone, including man, woman or God. Not being highly religious, Tabitha did not want to associate herself with any organized religion, including the Dark side. She held a high skepticism about religion, governed by self-righteous men. Her stand-offishness to the local church gained her a bit of a reputation already.  
She thought often of the things Alistar Stoke Crane had done to her, and her burning hatred had manifested itself in bringing her closer to its side.  
  
"Somehow, someway, I will have my revenge."  
  
  
Abigail Winthrop stood idly by the Standish Inn, waiting for her room while Tabitha Lennox walked brazenly down the street in a long black cloak. Abigail's luxurious white blond hair curled around a velvet collar of the most recent wardrobe from London. It was a vanity her father indulged her in, after making her move to the colonies for his political interests. Abigail was often the brunt of local gossip because she was Lord Winthrop's daughter, and she was bored and unhappy.   
  
"Drat this provincialism! Stuck here in this northern wilderness, ughhh. What do these small town busy-bodies do for amusement? They know nothing of high fashion. They have not been to the fine estate parties of Boston or London, they have not read any interesting books...Their severe sack cloth dresses do nothing for their figures and the tightly knotted hair covered in dust caps is for serving maids! I am going to have my amusements in any way I can." Abigail was accustomed to the finer things in life, having been brought up in the intellectual society of Oxfordshire. Her father owned estates throughout the colonies, and decided to immigrate in order to better manage them. Abigail was very lonely without her society friends, with no gay parties, no network of gentleman callers like the Oxfordshire manor had weekly received. In Harmony, there was no one of her class to associate with, except the Cranes, who she loathed as borish dullards.   
  
She nodded to Tabitha as she passed. Abigail thought Tabitha expressed a vivacity and style that was splashingly distinct from the women of Harmony. "A little individualism...how refreshing in this backwater mud hole." Has Tabitha Lennox gained a few pounds since she last saw her? Perhaps I shall buy a few of her herbs...."  
  
"Misteress Winthrop, your room is ready." Mary Standish stepping on the doormat outside, informed Abigail, glaring at Tabitha's garish outfit.  
  
Abigail turned, drew her nose up with contempt, assessing the thin red headed inn keeper's wife.   
  
"Yes, thank you." She took the key with her gloved hand. "Have my bags taken to my room." Abigail said with an aristocratic air and stepped inside.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6: A proposal

Chapter 2. Wildcrafting  
  
The blush of pregnancy was now fully apparent to anyone who saw Tabitha Lennox. Her cheeks held a rosey color and her eyes were brilliant blue set off by the new gold of her hair in the last rays of the setting sun. She drove her hand shovel into the sweet, leaf covered autumn earth digging out a few digitalis plants to winter indoors before the winter's snows blanketed the earth. She secured their rootball in jute netting and placed them into her basket. Wildcrafting was an occupation Tabitha had grown to love. It took her out into the open serenity of the woods, fields, the hillsides of Harmony where she would forget her troubles. Here in peaceful tranquility, she would search for medicinal plants, and in the springtime she would re-seed and replant that which she had taken, to insure their bounty for years to come. It was the nature of Wildcrafting.  
  
The summer stars had begun to fade lower on the horizon, making way for their wintry friends, just now beginning to appear each dusk over the horizon. Her confidence in astrology was offset by her equal knowledge with medicinal herbs. She rarely read horoscopes these days. But there were a few brave Harmony villagers who took the chance of scandal and paid her a farthing or two for readings. They were instructed by their faith to view astrology as witchcraft, as evil doings. Tabitha considered the reading of the stars and planets as a craft that had been used through the ages since antiquity.   
  
Consulting the stars of the zodiac was not only a scientific enterprise in her mind, but it used advanced mathematicks. Declinations and ascendants, degrees used for navigation but was also used for divination. The stars and planets did not compel anyone to do or be anything without the determination of free will. It was merely an influence. She couldn't help but scowl at the locals ignorance and fear at something so beautiful and magnificently intricate that God had created for their use.  
  
It was well past the last traces of dusk when Tabitha found herself on the path beside the cliffs. She happened to see the figure of a man sitting along side the rocks that overlooked the harbor below. He was a well-built, handsome man, who now stared up into the sky just as she had been doing. By the look of his clothing, the white duck trousers and his military jacket, she knew he was a sailor, a man of rank. She cautiously came closer. It was Captain Jeremiah Fitzgerald. She had heard he was now working for Alistar Stoke Crane. A dirty business to be connected to that man, she thought. This proud, independent sea captain was now...she suspected, being blackmailed into Alistar's evil Opium empire.  
  
As she passed him, he stood up brought his hand up to his cap and nodded to her in a gentlemanly manner. "Grand evening, Miss. A beautiful night."  
  
Tabitha clutched her cloak around her obvious telling shape. "Tis lovely, Captain. Full of stars." She glanced up at the rising of the planet Mars, and the constellation of Capricorn.   
  
"Pardon my saying so, Miss, but a young woman shouldn't be wandering about these paths alone at night." He recognized the strange young woman as Tabitha Lennox. His first mate's sister, the Innkeeper's wife had often mentioned the Herbalist's comings and goings, the local gossip Jeremiah wanted to be quitted of, and wished to be back at sea. He already knew she was with child.  
  
Tabitha smiled. "Tis only the Moon, Mars and Jupiter up in the heavens, I've no fear of them." She felt his eyes fall on her protruding abdomen, which she had tried without success to conceal from him. No explanations needed to be made for she soon realized he averted his eyes quickly. An unspoken understanding grew between them and she relaxed.   
  
Fitzgerald was a worldly man. Women having babies was the most natural event in the world. He did not share the local contempt and ill will against this woman of charming constitution because she had no husband. Experience knew the better of him. Her will seemed unviolated, and she showed an inward pride of having not deserved the treatment she has met with. He knew her plight was not going to be an easy one.   
  
"It's a good night for the lunars...." He said to himself, remarking about the lunar tables his navigator would make record of for navigational position. "Westerlies are backing, a fair wind for the west Indies." He said.  
  
"Pardon my asking, Captain...why are you not back at sea?"  
  
His head lowered and he sat back down on the flat rock, stretching out his long legs. "I've lost my ship to Alistar Crane. Why, I thought everyone knew by now."  
  
Tabitha smiled. "Indeed, I do not get about town these days."  
  
Jeremiah nodded with acknowledgment. The barbarous insults to a pregnant, unmarried woman would keep her away...."By god, that devil will have my family out in the streets if I don't take his bloody ships to Canton. Alistar Crane destroyed my papers, and claims ownership of The Passion Flower. I'm legally in his debt, according to the King's Law. You see, I detest being under an obligation. But-- I must swallow my pride for the sake of my family."  
  
Tabitha nodded sympathetically. "He's a remorseless man--- of unspeakable cruelty." She said in almost a whisper, her voice trembling with expression, that surprised herself. She turned from him, her handkerchief to her eyes, and for the first time in a long time, she wept.  
  
Jeremiah touched her arm in a gesture of compassion. "I-- see---I didn't know. Nobody would have ever guessed that you and he--- I'm sorry."  
  
"No sorrier than me." She gave him a very brief account of her unwillingness to yield to Crane and that was all, for it was too much, and yet she felt at ease speaking to this handsome stranger.   
  
Jeremiah made observations upon the subject, as if it came from the mouth of a person who would soon be a companion of angels, like his sister Penelope, long ago buried in Harmony churchyard. Looking up at the rising moon, Jeremiah was hardened with resolution against Alistar Stoke Crane. His oldest sister, Penelope had fallen victim to Alistar while working in his kitchen, many years ago when Jeremiah was just a boy. Penelope had just turned 16. The scandal of his sister's ruin was spoken of for many years. He had found her pregnant body hanging by a rope in the upstairs closet. Many of the townsfolk claimed it was the will of God. "Would to Heaven," said Jeremiah, I would put it in my power to repair the wrongs if I could." I shall never forget, Jeremiah thought.  
"He should be thrashed!" Jeremiah's eyes softened with kindness toward Tabitha. "It's a vile man who would take an unprotected woman against her will..."  
  
Tabitha stood a little embarrassed for him to be speaking about this subject so deeply buried in her heart, she stepped away from him, ready to dart away. Jeremiah touched her arm once more.   
  
"Be still, Tabitha. I'll not betray your secret, if you do not wish it."   
  
Tabitha relaxed, with so much graceful easy and beauty, and propriety of accent that would have made bad poetry delightful. "Thank you, Captain. You are an honorable man. My spirit is overwhelmed within me and my heart is desolate. I watch; and am as a sparrow alone upon the house-top. My days are like a shadow that declineth, and sometimes I am withered like grass."  
  
Such is the woman, such is the angel standing before him, Jeremiah thought more of this woman, whom Alistar Stoke Crane has deceived and ruined-sweet creature! And yet, she was made of stronger stuff than his sister had been. How effectually would her story, were it generally known, warn all of her sex against coming into the power of such a man and drive the men in this town up in arms against him?   
  
There were women, who were not utterly abandoned, who would easily be taken advantage of, without regard to principle, decency or honor. The women would be affecting ignorance and modesty, but showing meanings too obvious to be concealed. A pretty scarf, a piece of jewelry....Of those women, Crane would triumph, jest with laughing impertinence, and an obscenity too shameful even to the guilty.  
  
Crane would then show his intentions mingled with a disdain of that woman's despicable worthlessness. He thought all women were the same. Crane would make a toy of them. Crane would rob any angel of purities if he could, deciding the difference between angelic and brutal qualities. Without regard to the passion itself, the less of soul in the woman, the more accelerated her ruin. Crane had a soul, though a corrupted one; his appetite for power in the end was for conquering. Man, woman or child.  
  
"Be easy, Tabitha." Jeremiah took her hands in his. "I know that you have been vilely treated by a man who, to treat YOU ill, must be the vilest of men. Where all the world has a different opinion of you, I have not altered in mine. I deplore those sufferings, which encourage me to boldly hope...that you might someday...consider marrying me."  
  
"Sir!" Tabitha felt weakened. Jeremiah helped her sit beside him on the rock.  
  
"Your sufferings have exalted your character. I pride myself in this, that while your friends persecute and banish you, and do not look upon you in just light, as I do, while you are destitute of protection; and everyone standing aloof, I solemnly declare, to stand forth for I offer my life, at your service. Will you marry me?"  
  
Tabitha was shocked and drawn to this brave soul with feelings she could not name. "You are a good man, but we have only just met. Perhaps you offer yourself out of pity, and you are to be commended as a gentleman. However-I cannot accept your offer of marriage."   
  
  
"I can see you abhor insincerity, and I admire you for it." Jeremiah was growing more fond of this compelling woman. "We need not stay here in Harmony forever. Come away with me, and we will travel the world together, where your history is not known."  
  
Tabitha considered his proposal. She knew in her heart that she was no ordinary woman, although she wished she were. There was Hecuba, who had followed her to Harmony. Hecuba would make this man grow to hate and despise her when he learned of the arrest in England, that she had been charged as a witch. She lowered her head sadly, for the handsome sea captain was shining and brave, beyond any man she had ever known. "I cannot. Sir, you are a man who is good and has that quality in himself which dignifies the human race. Your actions toward me, I know, are made out of pity. I made a resolution not to marry for any reason but love."   
  
He lifted her chin in his, staring at her face, now reflecting the moonlight. "Perhaps we can grow to love each other, you and I. You are a companiable woman, smart, capable and fair. I beseech you to accept my protection."  
  
Tabitha pressed his hand back in hers. "Sir, you distinguish yourself in my opinion. Your frankness and generosity of purpose convinces me that I am morally compelled to decline your offer. My choice is the single life." A tear slipped down her cheek which she quickly swiped away. "There is no need for protection and favour, which you so generously offer. I have a strong heart." Tabitha stood up, unsure if she was able to resist this man if he were to take her in his arms, and her heart was breaking to turn him down.  
  
"I pray in the presence of God, to bless and protect you if I cannot." Jeremiah said.  
  
"And may God bless and protect you in all that you do." Tabitha took up her basket of herbs and ran down the path, never turning back.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7: Fortitude

Chapter 7.   
  
Abigail Winthrop scolded her maidservant for tightening her whalebone corset too tight. There was to be a Christmas dance given at the Crane estate that night, and she did not care to faint in the middle of the dining room due to the constriction her generous figure. "Just hand me my dress. I cannot breathe."  
  
"Yes, Miss Winthrop." Her impish maid, was sister of the Standish Innkeeper. Modesty Standish peered at their reflection in the looking glass as she helped her fasten the hooks in the back. "You'll need a kerchief to cover your bosum, Miss." Modesty grinned with misgiving at the daringly low cut of the bodice.  
  
"Nonsense. Queen Anne herself uses no scarf, and neither shall I."   
  
  
  
  
Tabitha had stoked the fire in the hearth, ready to settle down for the winter night. She slipped into her nightgown and shawl and snuggled into the soft chair by the fire. The cat stretched, rolled over and went back to sleep on the rug.   
  
The snow had been falling heavily all day. The fields and forest were covered in the first snow of the season, the gardens put to winter over. It had been a long time since she spoke to any living soul. Jeremiah Fitzgerald was the last human being who had given her any amount of respect or dignity. In most people's eyes, she was a ruined woman, one to be scorned and shunned. It wasn't their company that she felt lonesome for.   
  
Jeremia's proposal of marriage had disturbed her deeply. He seemed to have known her already, when she came upon him that November evening. He was more aware of her, than she was of him. He was the sort of man she could fall in love with. Wild, reckless brave and handsome. When she went looking for him a week later, after giving it some more thought, she had heard that his ship set sail for some unknown destination. Some sort of Crane business, no doubt. Never had she felt so lonely before when she did not know him, as she did now, having met him.  
  
She heard the sound of horses stamping outside. Before she got herself off the couch, the door flung open with a gust of December's north wind. The cat scampered off to hide behind the sideboard.  
  
"Tabitha," Alistar Stoke Crane stepped inside the simple little cottage, "How is it that every time I see you, you look more fetching than ever. Pregnancy seems to agree with you."  
  
Tabitha said nothing to him. She eyed the poker at the hearth, but it was across the floor. This time, she would protect herself.  
  
"I'm paying you a visit, are you not pleased?" He took off his funny hat. "Have you given thought to how you will raise the child?"  
  
"Tis none of your business."  
  
"But it is my business, as everything in this town is my business." He shut and latched the door behind him and sat down beside her on the couch. He first eyed her simple dwelling. It was meager by most standards, but clean and quaint. Then his eyes fell upon her in the firelight.  
  
"How dare you come here! I'm not drugged with opium, this time."  
  
Alistar laughed. "Come now, your not still angry with me over that? Just remember that you are mine to do with as I wish, like my horse and my servants."  
  
"I want you to leave here."  
  
"Listen carefully, for it is already out of your capable hands." He gripped her round the waist, and Tabitha distinctly recalled the smell of his cologne, and it gave her waves of nausea. "The Minister and the Magistrates have already agreed to my act of civic charity-that when your child is born, he will be taken from you at birth, and given a wet nurse. Since my wife cannot bear any children, the child will be raised as my adopted son. My wife approves of saving an innocent child, from the sinful life he would be exposed to living under the roof of a ruined wanton woman, such as yourself."  
  
"You filthy-" She raised her arm and made a fist.  
  
"Think of it, my dear, he will be brought up with an education, I'll send him to school in England. There is nothing you can give him here." Alistar said, grabbing her wrist. "He will be heir to my fortune, and raised as a gentleman."  
  
"Like you?" She slapped him with her other hand and tried to get up from the couch.  
  
"That's what I like about you Tabitha, you're honest." He wrestled with her, till he pulled her onto his lap.  
  
"I would sooner kill myself than give my child to you!"  
  
"No, you won't. Because you're much more tenacious than that."  
  
"God help you."   
  
"God has nothing to do with it." He said glibly while tearing at the top laces of her nightgown. He slipped his cold hand over her blossoming feminine contours. "You're sweeter than I remember...more so...unyieldingly so, because you carry my child inside you!" This seemed to fill him with a burning passion.  
  
Although her awkward shape made it difficult for her to easily slip off his lap, Tabitha was still spry and healthy. "You cannot have my child! And I am will never be your property." She struck him hard across the face this time, and aimed again but his hand caught her.   
  
"Still playing at the chaste maiden?" He said laughingly still feeling the stinging blow. "They all say no, when their body says yes. I'll have you begging for..." his lips buried into her neck, his face covered by her loosened hair.  
  
"Like Penelope Fitzgerald, cold in her grave?"  
  
That seemed to cool his ardor enough for Tabitha to clear some distance, she could hear his labored breath, as he regained his composure. "She was a stupid wench. She had no fortitude, unlike you. I daresay the town of Harmony only needs to see the papers from the court assizes in London to declare you guilty of witchcraft. Which-- by the way, are already in my possession."   
  
"So be it then! Show your papers, tell your lies, but you will never touch me again, for I will surely kill you." Tabitha knew for certain she would do anything to stop him.  
"You're a vile man. Don't you know that all women despise you? Your touch is revolting and you couldn't pay enough gold in this world for any woman to be willingly polluted with you." She pushed his groping hands away and got to her bare feet. She quickly grabbed the poker from the fire and held it up in her hands, ready to strike him.  
  
"I could care less what women think of me. They bend to my will, and that is all that matters. You will bend too in time. The child is mine, nothing can alter that under the sun. He shall come to live with me as a Crane."  
  
"Never!" She understood down to the core of her soul, why Penelope Fitzgerald had chosen to hang herself rather than defile herself further with this wicked man.   
  
"It's already been decided and approved. I am being commended by the entire town as the proverbial...ahem...good Christian soldier." Alistar said with mocking contriteness.  
  
"Christian? You're a mockery, you're nothing but an evil, wicked man, a blight upon this earth. They should see you now as the wretched, rutting, beast of the field that you are." Tabitha said.  
  
"The child will be mine. It will be so! It is done! Signed, sealed and given blessing throughout all of Christian society." Alistar stood up, straightened his garments and headed for the door. "I will not trouble you further...tonight. Sadly, I must attend a Christmas gathering." He placed his Dutch hat upon his head. "However, take heed Tabitha Lennox-when the boy has come, he shall be my son. And I will ravish you whenever I wish, till I'm through with you, and no man will ever want you again." He declared sternly.  
  
Alistar's face could not hide the heated flush of thwarted desire before he left the cottage. She waited tentatively, till she heard the horses tramp off in the snow through the woods before she heated up some water in the kettle.   
  
Tabitha scrubbed all the places he had man-handled her till her skin was rubbed raw, and her tears mingled in the soap basin. She felt marked by his scent, marked by his evil will.  
  
She fell into thought over the handsome sea captain whose only intention was to protect her, like a knight from Medieval days gone by. He was gallant and kind. She now wished she had given Jeremiah Fitzgerald a different answer than she had, as she washed the last traces of Alistar Stoke Crane's scent off her skin.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8: The Christmas Ball

Chapter 7. The Christmas Ball  
  
(Sorry this chapter is so long...)  
  
The burgundy taffetta gown that Abigail Winthrop wore was more stunning than anyone had seen in Puritan Harmony. Her Paris gown was a billowing rustle of silk at her feet to the swell of her breast and bare shoulders, with burgundy satin ribbons that shimmered under the candlelight. She carried her fan flirtatiously in her left hand, like a silver cobweb spun between ivory sticks. She listened to a handsome Corporal in the Dragoons re-tell his military exploits while the musicians played a lively tune. The men who gathered around her were bankers from the Commonwealth, Boston Investors, King's officers and the typical sons of the wealthy. None so far had gotten her to dance. The night was young, she thought. Keep them hungry.   
  
She basked in the very Un-Harmony like company of men, while a Magistrate of Harmony, Samuel Bennett stole glances at her over the resplendent drawing room with growing discomfort. Part of his discomfort came from the fact that Abigail Winthrop was the loveliest woman he had ever seen, and the other was that she was clearly not of his class. He had formerly been a captain of the Infantry, leading his men up mountains with 47 men and boys to take and keep a patch of mud.   
  
Alistar's eyes were drawn to the young woman while he stood beside his pallid, frail wife. "Will you excuse me, my dear?"  
  
Susanna Crane smiled passively. "Certainly, Alistar."  
  
Before he could approach the Winthrop woman and her buzzing admirers, Magistrate Bennett stepped in the way, barring his view.  
  
"Excuse me, Mr. Crane-"  
  
"Yes, what is it, captain Bennett?"  
  
"It's about the Lennox woman."  
  
"Oh, must we speak of this business at such a festive occasion, sir?" Alistar was annoyed at having to socialize with the town Magistrate, who was by all means, just another farmer in his estimation. He dismissed any of the man's former honors as captain in the army as nothing special, although he made sure that captain Bennett had checked his pistols at the door.   
  
Bennett looked troubled. "Yes. I'm afraid we must. There's a number of members from the committee who think it is cruel to take a child from its mother. They are planning on withdrawing the proclamation of indecency and feeble-mindedness."  
  
"There is no withdrawal of a proclamation! Its been registered in the court of London. What is on your mind?" Alistar peered up at him, as Bennett was almost a foot taller.  
  
"Well-I," Bennett hemmed and hawed.  
  
"Come now, would you deprive an innocent unborn child of a better chance at a Christian life? Think of it, man." Alistar pulled him over to the side, where their conversation would not be overheard. "Her wanton behaviour and fitness as a mother has already been declared morally unsuitable. Think of my poor childless wife! The committee has already approved of my adoption."  
  
"Not by all." Bennett said.  
  
"Oh? And who is in dissent?"  
  
If Samuel Bennett wasn't so lonesome this Christmas Eve, he would not have chosen to accept the nominal invite to celebrate at the Crane Estate.   
  
"Speak up, man!"  
  
"The Standishes, the Russells and myself."  
  
"The Russells!" He grunted, angered over the mention of his neighbor's farm. "Freed black slaves do not by the King's law have voting rights."  
  
"They own property, they are educated, they...."  
  
"Yes, and I'll see about that one of these days to change the Charter."  
  
Samuel stared at Crane for the first time, wondering what he meant by that. Samuel had grown fond of the Russells. They often worked together during harvests and spring sowing, sharing plows, horses and labor. They were valued members of the community and he considered them his good friends.  
  
"And as for the Standishes...ignorant grubbing fools with their seedy little Inn. I should close that place down for non-payment of taxes." Alistar tossed down his drink, promptly handing Samuel the empty glass as if he were a servant. Then he made his way toward the Winthrop woman.  
  
"Madam, will you have this dance?" Alistar bowed to the lovely creature. He had been annoyingly arroused by Tabitha earlier in the evening. Tabitha had monstrously teased him. Tonight he desired the company of this attractive woman, perhaps to take her to bed if he could. If Tabitha would not satisfy his needs, some other would do. He was tired of the kitchen maids.  
  
Abigail smiled politely back at him and stepped out to the dance floor holding Alistar's arm, leaving in her wake, many disappointed young men, including Samuel Bennett who watched from the side of the room. When the dance ended, Alistar took her to the study to look at the paintings over the great marble hearth.  
  
After small talk, Abigail raised a topic, fanning herself. "I am sorry to be obliged to speak my mind so plainly as I am going to do. Are you going to take custody of the Lennox child?"  
  
"I see it as my duty, as a leading citizen in this Town. My wife and I only wish to raise Harmony's innocents to higher moral promise, than that shown by the Lennox woman." He said.  
  
"Know that I have strong objection to this monstrously ill treatment of a young woman so destitute. This is not an honorable way of proceeding, Mr. Crane."   
  
"Honor be damned!" He said, moving closer to her side.  
  
Abigail snapped her fan closed to display her anger. "I have seen nothing that diminishes Tabitha's moral character merely by her one error in judgement." Abigail said.   
  
"And what an error! What if all the young women of the town were to copy her wanton behaviour? Something has to be done to right the wrong, to set an example for all the young women. Think of the child's welfare! That Lennox woman is an eccentric, feeble-minded woman. She has strange ways, and flaunts herself all over town in an unbecoming manner. Her bastard child is the result of it. We can't allow her to corrupt that child. My wife and I wish to rectify her sins."   
  
"Why sir," Abigail stepped back. "you have given me every reason to conclude that there is more malice to your act of charity, than would be presumed. She has had a misfortune, that is all."  
  
Alistar took her hand in his. "Misfortune? Bear in mind that by a concensus, the Christian community of Harmony has agreed that removing the child is the best course of action to remedy her wanton disregard for morality." He squeezed her hand confidently.   
  
The bellowing of Alistar's voice caught Samuel Bennett's ear. He left the dancers and party goers to seek out the room where Abigail Winthrop might be. The door quietly opened and he slipped into the dimly lit room unnoticed by them. There he saw Alistar clutching Abigail's hand by the marble hearth. He thought it prudent not to intrude, although he would cautiously stand by until her was sure she was safe. Samuel stood in the doorway watching Alistar move closer toward the young woman. Does Crane have no shame? Everyone knew that he might have fathered countless numbers of children throughout the Commonwealth.   
  
"How now Miss Winthrop, what right have you to judge Tabitha Lennox a fit, Christian mother?"  
  
Abigail snatched her hand away. "And by what right have you, Sir?  
  
Alistar was losing his patience with this vibrant, proud creature. "By the Law of England, Madam. Would you have such a woman influencing all the unmarried ladies of this town, to do the same?" He held his arm over the mantle, hovering over her bare shoulder, his lips close enough to touch her skin.   
  
"And what will the town do when she refuses to give away her child?" Abigail felt his hot breath on her skin.  
  
His eyes wandered over her shoulder, down to her daringly low cut bodice, and Abigail felt his eyes seering through the material. "Upon her child's delivery, she will be thus taken to the Portland Home for the Feeble Minded."  
  
"Sir! Tabitha Lennox is as right minded as you or I!" She raised her voice and took a step away.  
  
"Madam, you will do well to keep your impertinent opinions to yourself. By defending that immoral woman, it reflects upon your own character." He said threateningly.  
  
"By your leave, sir, I will say whatever I like, and to whomever I like. And sir, do not take liberties with my character!"  
  
"Indeed, my lady, I would rather enjoy taking liberties just as the glimmering firelight dances upon the supplicating softness of your charming neck; not half concealing those assemblage of beauties offered..." His hand slid up her arm, he kissed her neck and he was about to clasp her to his chest when Abigail struck him hard across the face with her closed fan.   
  
"Insolent villain!" Her hands clasped over her bosom.  
  
"For God's sake Madam!" Her force was amazingly strong. Her lovely bosom was heaving with what he took for sighs. He had the utmost difficulty to hold her one arm. Alistar wished he could take the saucey creature into the bedroom and ravish her, if she would only stop talking about Tabitha Lennox.  
  
"For God's sake?" Abigail said evenly. "I pray God's sake and your sake are the same! I know your design."  
  
Abigail turned away from Alistar with a flushed face, her heart beating fiercely in anger and indignity when she met with the friendly earnest face of Samuel Bennett, who had quietly approached them.   
  
"Is everything all right, Miss Winthrop?" Samuel asked, noticing the wild look on Alistar's face, and the beginnings of streaming tears in Abigail's eyes.  
  
"Why of course everything is all right, Captain Bennett." Alistar was annoyed at Bennet's interruption.  
  
"I-I - seem to have a terrible headache." Flustered, she felt grateful for the appearance of this handsome young man. "I wish to leave this unpleasant place at once!" Abigail didn't care what he thought about her display of temper. "But my coachman is in presently in Town." Abigail said, still reeling from her unpleasant exchange with Alistar Crane. It was obvious to Sam Bennett that Alistar Crane had done something to offend Miss Winthrop. He had a few guesses at what it might be.   
  
"My horse and sleigh are just outside, Mam. The storm seems to have let-up some, although I think a coach might leave you stranded here for the night. May I see you safely home then?" Samuel asked.  
  
Abigail smiled wonderingly. "Why thank you, sir. I would be most gratefully obliged." She turned to Alistar. "I will take leave of you. Good evening to you, sir." She said in her most rigid tone of voice.  
  
Abigail had read so many words of praise for Alistar Stoke Crane's civic generosity in the newspaper, while she had her own suspicion of the low artiface, the mockery of noble good for evil, as is too often the case among the elite. Now she knew for sure what that man was all about.   
  
Alistar still seethed watching Abigail Winthrop lay her delicate hand lightly on Samuel Bennett's arm. They had the audacity to turn their back on him and leave him standing there alone.  
  
Abigail noted that the arm was a strong one, and the gentleman was very tall. She never dreamed of being escorted home from a Christmas ball with a man who wore pistols.  
  
The servant brought their coats and cloaks and the handsome couple stepped out into the winter night. They were looking at each other for a moment or two before he spoke. "My sleigh is hitched up over there...."   
  
Hecuba, bored with uninspiring eavesdropping through the gleaming window clapped her hands softly as she perched herself way up upon the roof just above them. She delighted in the surprise pairing of this mis-matched couple. "Finally, some action." Bennett was a commoner, a poor New England farmer and Winthrop, bred to become the wife of an English aristocrat. "This is the way to bring down the Monarchy in England! Vive le Commoners! How dare England try to burn me as a witch! I'll begin by mixing the seeds of class doubt...for the sake of Chaos!" Hecuba's eyes peered up at the sky for a moment. Without losing a second, she waved her hand and suddenly brought a blizzard of snow and howling wind out of the night. The walkway to the sleigh which had been shoveled an hour ago, was now covered in two feet of heavy wet snow. "This is too easy." Hecuba kicked her legs back and forth, giddy with glee, then she leaned forward to watch her handiwork.  
  
"Oh dear-I left my patterns (wooden clogs that go over shoes to keep them clean while walking outside) at the Inn." Abigail said.  
  
"Precisely" Hecuba thought, waiting for Bennett to take the bait.  
  
Samuel ascertained a quick remedy. "If you'll pardon me, Mam, I can I carry you across the snow."  
  
Abigail nodded. "Well-under the circumstances."  
  
He led her to the edge of the steps, placed both his hands to her waist and lifted her off her feet into his arms. "Lord!" He sounded surprised. "You're a little thing!"  
  
What made him thinks so? His hands at her waist? His eyes-had they measured her so exactly while he stared at her across the room? She was pressed up against his broad chest.  
  
"Captain Bennett!" She said with an absurd dignity as he held her in his strong arms. She must hold to some dignity. He was, after all, just a poor farmer, having given up the military life for toiling in the dirt.  
  
"Well---" He could think of no proper answer.   
  
"Did you offer to take me home to inquire about my size?"  
  
He didn't trouble to answer, and conveyed her to the sleigh. He walked slowly, delaying the moment when he would have to release her from his arms. Instead he stopped walking and stood still in the snow and said: "You look like a Christmas angel, rising out of the snow."  
  
"Oh!"  
  
"What's the matter? Don't you like being an Angel?"  
  
"I-" But she couldn't find an appropriate retort. "Why do you carry pistols, captain Bennett? Surely, you are no duelist." She said.  
  
"No--I'm a soldier-or rather, I was. Old habits, I guess. You might call me, Sam." His long legs began to walk with her again. He could smell her clean hair, feel her arm around his neck, while he noticed the snow lighting on her eyelashes.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said. "Sam."  
  
"Sorry? About what? There's nought to be sorry for."  
  
"For taking you away from the ball." She liked his distinctly American accent.  
  
"There." He placed her into the sleigh and brought out a blanket to cover her legs. "Could get very cold on a night like this." He rounded the other side, climbed up beside her and grabbed hold of the reigns. She felt his muscular thigh brush up against hers as they sat beside one another. She didn't bother to move it away. He snapped the reigns and the horses urged themselves forward.  
  
"I'm sorry for making you leave the ball so soon after you'd just arrived." She said penitently. The snow had renewed itself with vigor.   
  
"I was only too glad to have an excuse to leave. And just in time, from what I gather." His voice was flat, and his mouth stern against his teeth. "When Alistar Crane sees a woman like you...there's no telling what he's capable of."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Sam shrugged, looking straight ahead through the blinding snow. "There's talk."  
  
"There's always talk." Abigail said.  
  
"Yes." He turned the horses toward a woodland path, when the sleigh careened a little too sharp he felt Abigail's hand grab hold of his arm. "When I heard you and Mr. Crane arguing about Tabitha Lennox...I was worried. He's got it in for that woman, and there's a few guesses as to why that is, but I'd not like to say it in front of a lady."  
  
"You don't mean to impute that Alistar and Tabitha....she's much too intelligent to...." Abigail shivered with the thought of kissing that horrid man. The forced adoption of Tabitha's child, the fierce passion in Alistar Crane's voice insisting on taking the child as his own...the question as to whether the woman was feeble minded...  
  
"Like I said, there's been talk about Crane's mis-treatment of several women over the years. He does not discriminate by class either. There's been accusations from servant girls on up to the most educated daughters of the gentry. If you'll pardon my saying so, he's not a man to get mixed up with." He glanced at the girl's stricken face, and his own face was sad.   
  
"I don't plan on having anything to do with him, Captain."  
  
"Well-that puts my mind at ease, Mam." Sam said.  
  
Damn, he thought. Damn! Why did I bring up this seedy subject? It was not the proper type of conversation to have with a lady like Abigail Winthrop. To instruct her about men like Alistar. Well, he was glad that someone told her, anyway. She seemed so proud and defiant to have stood up to that powerful man in defense of Tabitha Lennox, who was alone and helpless ---while Alistar Crane was making his own unseemly advances toward this brave young woman. He wouldn't allow Alistar's plotting bring harm to any woman, if he could help it.   
  
Meanwhile: Hecuba sat back on the porch roof. Pleased with herself at the magnetism she sparked between the couple. "Would serve old Alistar right if someone put him in his place. Who the heck do that Warlock think he is? He's rubbing Tabitha's nose in the dirt, and even if she's not a full fledged witch, it burns me. Why does she take it? All she needs to do is tap into her natural abilities and squash that horny old fool." Hecuba produced a glass of punch and sipped it with genteel thoughtfullness, enjoying her snow.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	9. Chapter 9: The Witches Liberation Front

The Witches Liberation Front  
  
  
  
In early February of 1694, Tabitha had set about preparations for the baby's coming. She would be delivering her child by herself in March, and as far as she knew she would deliver it alone. She made sure there were ample blankets, special herbs to quell the bleeding and enough fresh water so she didn't have to go to the well during her laying in. She had helped deliver babies in the past, alongside Maizee Russell, who was considered an excellent midwife, but had no idea what would happen to her, all alone.  
  
When all seemed satisfactory and in order, she stared down at the empty cradle beside her bed and hoped for the best. There was a certain amount of fondness for the unborn child inside of her. It was half hers, and she would protect it from harm. There was no way she could let such a cruel man as Alistar Stoke Crane touch her innocent baby.  
  
"Party Time!"  
  
Tabitha turned round to find Hecuba grinning at her. Not only was Hecuba standing inside her small cottage, but there were two other older women she did not recognize. One was short, petite with a nervous looking scowl and a long nose; and the other stood tall, with stern beady eyes.  
  
"What are you doing here, Hecuba?" Tabitha eyed her suspiciously.  
  
Hecuba pouted. "Oh, Tabby love-- The gals and I just thought we'd throw you a baby shower."  
  
Tabitha's eyes surveyed the other two women. There was something odd about them that she didn't trust. Their eyes seemed to pierce through every stitch of clothing, examining her under strident scrutiny.   
  
"Let me introduce you to my friends. This here," She elbowed the short one, "is Zelda, who covers the North Country Covens. And my other associate, Prosperina, she's been been working Salem for kicks, but represents the tidewater region."  
  
The women nodded coolly to Tabitha, and then shared glances with each other.  
  
"I didn't invite you or your friends here, Hecuba. Kindly leave." Tabitha said, showing them the door.  
  
"Of course you didn't silly! This is a surprize party! SURPRIZE! Girls---let's make this festive!" Hecuba made an incantation while the other women followed suit. The room suddenly filled with plates of delectible food and wine. Chandeliers appeared out of nowhere with fine drapery replacing the burlap curtains. The wooden plank table became a mahogany dining table dressed in Irish lace with silver candelabras holding black candles already flickering.  
  
"So, she's the chosen one, is she?" Prosperina remarked staring at Tabitha.  
  
"She is." Hecuba said "Once my understudy. And you'll show a little respect." She glared at the woman threateningly.  
  
"Prosperina is--no doubt, a little green behind the gills with envy that the Grand Warlock chose you instead of her." Hecuba said to Tabitha.   
  
"Chose me? For what?" Tabitha didn't like the unkind looks they were giving her. She'd had enough disapproval from the towns people to last a lifetime.  
  
Hecuba's eyes rolled up to the ceiling for a moment, feigning her exasperation. "She's such an innocent! Why, you've been chosen to bear his son! As if you didn't know." Hecuba took up a cut crystal glass of wine. "Here's a toast to the next Imperial Wizard! Long may he reign in infamy!"  
  
The other two witches lifted their glasses. "To the Wizard!"  
  
"Long may the Master Rule!" Prosperina raised her glass again.  
  
"Long may he rule!" They enjoined her.  
  
Tabitha had to sit down. The realization that she had been part of Alistar's plot was coming all too clear to her now. Alistar was indeed a Warlock. "Why me?"  
  
"Why indeed!" Zelda sneered off handedly, peering down her long nose at Tabitha's fair and youthful beauty.  
  
"Oh, don't be such a wet rag, Zelda. You're both too old and ugly." Then she turned to Tabitha. "The dark powers will often do that to a witch, you see, it will make her age. Similar to when mortals eat too many rich foods and drink and get the Gout. Unfortunately, that is the price of power." Hecuba was still a handsome woman who had been able to stop the aging process by her own secret spell, once she hit a human appearance of 46. She kept her spell to herself, using it as an influence among the Warlocks, who were driven by lust for beauty and power.  
  
And yet, Tabitha could still not believe that she was carrying a child of the dark side inside of her. She herself had not allied herself to their Master, nor any master. She felt sick at the thought that she had been betrayed. And she didn't even have to sell her soul for this sinister business.  
  
"The prophecy foretold that his eminence, the Grand Warlock of the New World was to take unto him, a virgin. That's where you came in." Hecuba nudged Tabitha. "A young woman, pure of heart who also showed extraordinary potential magical powers. You see the volitile mixture is very powerful." Hecuba, who had been initially jealous of Alistar's choice, had come to grips with the rightness of the prophecy in the last few months. She decided to accept his choice of women and glean what she could to boost her own position of power in this new country. "So, innocent and as you were....Alistar chose you."  
  
"Is that why he wants my child?"  
  
"Of course, sweetie!" Hecuba said. "He will be raised befitting the rank of an Imperial Wizard." Hecuba sat down next to Tabitha, patting her arm. "Now you see, you've no reason to suffer any more this perverse self-sacrifice. That's for stupid mortals. You don't have to live like a barn animal any more. Join up with the dark side and enjoy some of life's pleasures for once in your life. You'll be able to take pleasure in the company of men...." She smiled sympathetically, patting her hand. "All you need to do is invoke the powers within you, and ally them with the Master. I can't stand to see you suffer any more of that Warlock's abuse. I know he's been after you since the first time. That is not generally allowed. Your free to make love to any man you choose. Show him what a real witch is made of!" Hecuba threw her arm around Tabitha comforting her like mother.  
  
"Yes," Zelda rallied in agreement. "It's shameful how these Warlocks throw their weight around, treating witches like hand maidens, ravishing the fledglings over and over. It makes me furious!"  
  
"Alistar Stoke Crane has abused his power, and witches are his victims." Prosperina added. "The witch covens all over the globe are demanding witches rights, equality with the Warlocks, and that's been an uphill battle, I tell you. This horrid way he's abused your naivete has incited out and out rebellion against the Warlocks."  
  
"Witches Rights! Equality for All!" Zelda shouted, raising her arm in a fist. Prosperina raised hers in solidarity.  
  
Hecuba threw a glance at them. "Now, now. All in good time. Diplomacy, girls. You know how self-centered these Warlocks are. Play up to their Warlock vanity, that's what I say. After all, Rome didn't fall in a day."  
  
"That's because the Warlocks were having too much fun at those orgies!" Zelda munched on a sweet cake.  
  
Hecuba laughed, smoothing Tabitha's golden tresses off her forehead as if she were her daughter. "Now, my dear. You know that if you refuse to join us, Alistar will toss you into that most unspeakable place! What is it called?"  
  
  
"The Home for the Feeble Minded!" Prosperina said with disgust.  
  
"Lord of Darkness, Help us!" Zelda said. "This is too much for any witch to take. No witch should be treated like that, even if she is only a fledgling."  
  
"Sweetie, Alistar doesn't care whether you have your powers or not. It means nothing to a Warlock like him. He's had his fun with you, and now your carrying the only thing he wants. The next Imperial Wizard!"  
  
"Long may he reign!" The witches said in Unison then tossed another drink down.  
  
"He'd just as soon see you see you chained to the wall of that loony bin till your mortal end. All that he wants is to claim being the father of the next Imperial Wizard. You mean nothing to him, depend on it." Hecuba laid her head on Tabitha's shoulder.  
  
Zelda stamped her foot on the new oriental carpet. "These Warlocks are treating our fledglings like breeding cows. Something must be done!"  
  
"He means nothing to me. What should I care what he thinks of me. He's the lowest of vermin!" Tabitha said.  
  
"Of course he is dear, the lowest." Hecuba said soothingly. "But he will see you die a mortal death, if you are not careful."  
  
"I can't believe you didn't turn him into a rat. That's what I would have done, the minute he laid a hand on me." Zelda said.   
  
"I would have put witches bane in all his drawers, and then called upon the Master to invoke a spell that would leave him impotent. That'd fix him where it hurts!" Proserina smiled for the first time since she came into the cottage. "Oh, lets do that! Alistar Stoke Crane, the Impotent!"  
  
Hecuba was the voice of reason. "Don't get carried away, ladies. It's all up to Tabitha. It's her call, after all." Hecuba kissed the top of Tabitha's head. "Poor dear, she's overworked with all this mortal drugery. She's been treated like a slave by this town, when she only wanted to help the sick and infirm. But...it's by her own choice."  
  
"Yes, it's by her own design." Zelda agreed conservatively, curious about the fair young fledgling.  
  
"Your fate is in your own hands, Tabitha. You've been trained by the best witches in Europe. Your natural abilities are so extraordinarily developed...that to refuse the invocation of the Master, is a waste of your existence...in my opinion. You could live forever!" Prosperina said wistfully. "I wish I had your talent when I was your age."  
  
"It is a shame, isn't it?" Zelda joined in. "And to think what she had to endure from that bull of a Warlock, soiling and abusing her fine fledgling body into submission---it makes my essence BOIL!"  
  
"Tabitha is made of stronger stuff than that." Hecuba said with wisdom. "Her suffering at his hands, has made her strong. It has made her outlast any ordinary fledgling witch. Her having held out from joining the Master has actually given her wisdom, and heightened her ability for focusing power once she does Invoke the Master."   
  
All this talk about her powers, about the Master. It depressed Tabitha. A great sigh came over her. She hadn't given the Craft too much thought lately, since she found she was going to have a baby. However, these ladies, these witches were supportive and kind to her, after so lonely a time without any morsel of human compassion since captain Fitzgerald reached out to her. She was starved for affection, and at the same time feared giving birth all on her own as mortal woman and as mother to an Imperial Wizard.  
  
"I tell you what," Hecuba said. "I've been up to a bit of mischief, myself."  
  
Zelda and Prosperina giggled like school girls. "Do tell! Fess up, Hecuba."  
  
Hecuba hunkered down on the couch grinning at Tabitha, she kicked her shoes off and wiggled her toes. "Well, for starters...I've doused some of Crane's future plans. His barren wife, Susanna....she will bear him a daughter next Winter."  
  
That did not get too much of a response from the witches.  
  
"I've undone his spell over her, repairing her ability to conceive, to the extent of Susanna's being able to produce a child of her own." Hecuba threw her hands up in the air waving them back and forth. "However, the birth will take its toll on her mortal body, and she will die a much earlier death. Can't be helped. It's not personal, actually. Magic isn't a perfect science...Yet!"  
  
The witches screamed with laughter. Tabitha didn't understand the mirth over Susanna Crane's sooner than later demise. "Doesn't Alistar wish to have other children? He's crazed about taking mine. Perhaps he will be happy to have the one his wife bears him."  
  
"No-your not following this, Tabitha. You will bear him the next Imperial Wizard." Hecuba said.  
  
"Long may he reign!" The witches were getting drunk.  
  
"You see Tabitha, that Warlock, he detests women, except as play-things and social decorations. He loathes having them around except to satisfy his physical needs. Women remind him too much of the witch's powers. He's not going to be too fond of having a Crane daughter, especially a pretty and intelligent one, even if she possess no power, she's still a threat. It's a primitive throw back to the early Warlocks."  
  
The witches looked puzzled. "What is so wicked about the Warlock having a mortal daughter?"  
  
Hecuba smiled. "It's not wicked at all. The daughter will give him so much trouble in female offspring throughout the centuries, passing on her independent traits to any future females in the Crane line. He will be too busy trying to reign her in to abuse any more witches."  
  
"Hurray!!" The witches cheered.  
  
"Hecuba, that's Brilliant!" Prosperina spilled wine on her dress.  
  
"The Crane female line will be willful and obstinate, and never obey his orders. There was something I once read in a book of prophecy having to do with the mortal daughter of a Warlock."  
  
"Oh-I heard that too." Prosperina said, her intoxicated mind attempted to recall the ancient tract by memory, "If a Warlock sires a mortal female, it will drain him of his power."  
  
"Yes, that's it!" Zelda said. "It's more than Brilliant! It's Justice!"  
  
"That is why a Warlock is ever so careful to make sure he sires male offspring only." Prosperina said. "If he is aware, he will usually have the unborn female child killed, along with the mother."  
  
"It's delicious, when you think about it. Warlocks are so treacherously lustful, dogging after all the women, and yet...they must not sire females." Zelda clapped her hands in merriment. "It's Divine Justice at work."  
  
"Thank the Master for that bit of Irony!" Prosperina clutched her hands together in salutation.  
  
Zelda squinted her eyebrows together in thought. "But what is to stop him from killing his wife, once he discovers she is to bear him a daughter?"  
  
Hecuba sat back with satisfaction. "I've taken care of that. I've put "the midwives spell" upon her, so that he will not be able detect her pregnancy during the first few months. I've hypnotized Susanna into keeping her pregnancy a secret from him so she won't tell. She's not too fond of his excesses with other women anyway, and she will be out of the country when she is to deliver. By the time the girl-child is born, he will be powerless."  
  
"Hecuba rules!" The witches cried out.  
  
Hecuba turned upon Tabitha once again. "So you see my dear, you may as well Invoke the Master now and save yourself pain and suffering. Join us, tonight. We can do nothing to help fend off Alistar until that girl-child is born. By that time, he will have you put into that dreadful asylum and the next Imperial Wizard---well, he must go with his destiny."  
  
"I'm an independent woman." Tabitha said cooly.  
  
"Independence-Bah! These fledglings think they can operate without the Master." Zelda said with contempt.  
  
"You'll break, sooner or later." Prosperina's eyes were bloodshot now. "If you want to build more character by putting yourself through torture, that's all very well and good...but I wouldn't."  
  
"No matter how perfected your own natural abilities are, Tabitha," Hecuba said. "You must ally yourself with us. Invoke the covenant with the Master." She brought Tabitha a glass of wine.  
  
Tabitha shook her head. "I'll not give my soul or my child to your Master, nor to anyone else."  
  
Hecuba shook her head, knowing that she could persuade her no further. Tabitha was a stubborn young woman, Hecuba thought. She will have to suffer a bit more to see the witches logic. "Well, it's been fun Tabitha, but we must be on our way. You can keep the trinkets." For all that was said here tonight, Hecuba felt sorry for the next few months of misery that Tabitha insisted on enduring. She kissed Tabitha's cheek and vanished.   
Proserina smirked, tossed down the last of her glass of wine and disappeared. Zelda waved her hand as if Tabitha were a fly, dismissing Tabitha as a fool. "Why is youth is wasted on the fledglings?" She said before she vanished.  
  
Fatigued, Tabitha sunk back into the couch pillow, ready to faint. Tis a very sad world, full of sorrows. She thought. Alas! I knew nothing of the mysterious world at all, to have it offered at my very feet, and not want it. I am accursed, that is what I am. To sell my soul, what a cost! How will I see this through? Oh--Unhappy girl! Tabitha had one last thought cross her thoughts before falling asleep. The Minister! I will see the Minister tomorrow. For surely, a servant of God will be able to guide my soul down the right path! With that, Tabitha slept the first peaceful night without nightmares since her unlucky meeting with Alistar Crane upon the road that summer day.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	10. Chapter 10: A Minister's Temptation

The Minister's Temptation  
  
  
  
Early next morning, Tabitha dressed herself in her warmest cloak and set out for the town of Harmony through the snow. Along the woodland path, she sat down a few times to rest. It was taxing on her body, but she was driven by an energy and purpose that sped her onward.   
  
The church door was a large oak hewn door with iron hinges. She rapped upon it. Not being the Sabbath, she hoped the Minister was close at hand. A cleaning woman opened the door, it was one of the Standish sisters. "You?" Stella Standish looked down at Tabitha as if it were a personal affront for her to show up at the church door, in her unseemly advanced stage of pregnancy.  
  
"I've come to speak to the Minister, if you please."  
  
"He's busy writing a sermon." Stella held her feather duster poised as if she would hit Tabitha like a mangy, stray dog that had come begging for food.  
  
"I must speak with him!" Tabitha insisted, feeling faint.  
  
"I'm sorry. He won't see you today. Get away from the door now-you heard me. Go away!" Stella began to close the door when Tabitha passed out and Stella half caught her in her arms.   
  
"What is it, Stella?" A voice from within inquired.  
  
"It's that Lennox woman, she's fainted." Stella held her as long as she could till she laid Tabitha across the floor at her feet.   
  
"Good Lord!" The Minister ran toward them, taking Tabitha's head in the crook of his arm.  
  
"What will the congregation think, if they were see this woman here! What a disgrace!" Stella peered out on the street to see if any passers by noticed.  
  
"Have a little charity, Mistress Standish and fetch her some water." Reverend Harlow took Tabitha up in his arms and carried her to his one room quarters in the back of the church. He placed her on his simple cot.  
  
Tabitha opened her eyes to find the Minister and Stella Standish standing beside her bed staring at her. The Minister drew a chair up next to the cot and placed a dampened towel over her forehead. "I'm sorry to cause you all this trouble, Reverend." Tabitha said with heart felt sincerity.  
  
"That's all right child. What brings you through the snows? The trials are still very deep for you to have come so far." Reverend Harlow showed sympathy and it warmed Tabitha to the very core.  
  
Tabitha blinked a few times, giving his question some musing. "What brings anyone to a church?"  
  
The Reverend Harlow nodded agreeably to that response. "The word of God. I'm glad you have come."  
  
"I need to speak with you, sir. It's a private matter." Tabitha's eyes wandered back to Stella, who was hanging around, full of scorn, curious to hear what the scandalous woman had to confess. The Reverend Harris turned to Stella and motioned her to leave them alone.  
  
"But Reverend, you should send her away! It's improper for her to be here..." What Stella implied clearly was that it was improper for Tabitha to be left alone with the young Minister in his quarters. Eight months Pregnant or no!  
  
"Don't you have any work to attend to?" Reverend Harlow shamed her into leaving them. "And shut the door!" When Stella reluctantly left with a huff, the Minister turned back to Tabitha, his eyes absorbing the bashful sweetness of this lovely sinner in his bed.  
  
"I've not seen you attend any Mass since arrived in Harmony." He said quietly.  
  
"No sir, Tis true. I've been---trying to figure things out. What I've come to speak to you about, is my child-and other things." Tabitha began.  
  
Reverend Harlow closed his eyes, as if the thought of her bastard child pained him. "Go on,"  
  
"Please, you can't allow Mr. Crane to take my child away from me! It's---wrong!"  
  
"I'm sorry my child, but it's all been decided as being the best thing for all individuals involved. Don't fret," He patted her hand. "Poor Susanna Crane will love this child as if her own. And Alistar, well-he will provide the child with education and opportunities that are beyond your means. And as for Christian upbringing---well, it's God's will"  
  
"God's will?" Tabitha laughed with bitterness at the cruel irony of his statement. "Have you no compassion? This child is all that I have in the world." Tabitha sat up in the bed, placing her hand over her unborn child.  
  
The Reverend's eyes were drawn to her swelling abdomen and he took her hand in his. His fingers stroked the skin of her hand slightly before she snatched it away. "You should have thought about all of this before you tempted your young man to fall into sin."  
  
"You don't understand, I didn't tempt him. It wasn't my fault!" His words were like a slap in the face. She composed herself, careful to choose the right words with which to explain the unbearable.  
  
The Reverend lowered his head down, as if he had heard it all before. He closed his eyes and began praying over her softly, noticing the sweet flush overspreading her charming cheeks.  
  
"The father of my child---is Alistar Crane."  
  
The Minister withdrew from the chair, he said nothing. He didn't know what to say. He paced a moment or two over the braided rug. He seemed to be considering her accusation, perhaps having heard similar accusations of the same thing in the past. It troubled him, if indeed these women were telling the truth. Alistar Crane had donated many of the church's needed monies along the years, and to this day, was one of the largest contributers-even if he didn't attend Mass.  
  
"This is outrageous! What unnatural arts are you about? I'm sorry, my child. It is clear that you are creating slanderous accusations in order to cover up your own sins, and to stop this adoption from proceeding. It won't work."  
  
"For pity's sake, you don't see-he-Mr. Crane---he ---I," Tabitha's eyes watered. "I came into his presence, his power and he had his way with me!" Tabitha said.  
  
The Reverend eyes were now lifted up to her face and eyes. He could understand how any man would desire this young woman. However, her virtue was questionable banking on her poor reputation.   
  
"He's ruined me---and now he wants to take my child!" The Reverend still didn't seem to understand. How to put it delicately? Tabitha didn't know. There was no delicacy about it. "You're a servant of God, that is why I have come to you and no one else." Tabitha clasped her hands together and lifted her eyes to him.  
  
Oh, what eyes they were, thought the Minister. "Madam, I am cut the heart, with your invectives."  
  
"Last June---Alistar Crane raped me---repeatedly." She said in almost a whisper, her eyes fixed on the Minister.  
  
"Madam! The man who perpetrates a villainy, and resolves to go on with it, shows no compunction-but a woman? That is much worse. No more of these impure thoughts!" Was it said for Tabitha's benefit or his own? "It's bad enough that you willfully fell into temptation and sin, but it's another to blame it on an upstanding citizen like Alistar Crane. His Christian charity will save your child from wicked fires of hell and damnation! I can do nothing to help you." The Reverend pronounced sadly.  
  
Tabitha threw her head back and wanted to laugh at this last outrage. Oh, the wickedness---the irony! Alistar Crane, the most Christian man--saving her child from the fires of hell! Ha! If he only knew! She wanted to laugh out loud. "He wishes for my child to grow up to be an Imperial Wizard!" She blurted out, and instantly wished she had not. Not that the Reverend understood a word of it. She could hardly stop herself from going completely mad now and she knew the Reverend was witnessing her insane reaction. Perhaps they would rightly place her in the Home for the Feeble Minded after all.  
  
"You're lucky you haven't been run out of town, your a wicked, wicked woman." The Reverend stood back from her, desperately afraid that by one touch, she would tempt him as well. She was a beautiful girl, after all.   
  
For the first time, the infectious thoughts of bewitchment came to his mind. "What the devil ails me?" He thought miserably. His growing desire for this pregnant woman must be because she had bewitched him. The longing to reach out and smother her face and skin with kisses, to bury his face in her hair and lay his head on her breast..... Although Reverend Harlow was a protestant, he had recently read some translated texts from the most misogynist work to ever come out of the Middle Ages, the "Malleus Mallifacarum": the Witches Hammer. The Catholic church had used the work as a professional manual for witch hunters during the time of the Inquisition's war against Heresy. The book, written by two Inquisitors, instructed the church on how to recognize a witch and deal with them. Since the troubles they had in Salem, the Protestant church had copied the texts as insurance and passed them among New England's Ministers.   
  
Tabitha raised herself out of the bed and placed her feet on the floor. Some instinct seemed to grow within her, where she knew in her heart that this man of God was no different from the rest and that he would not help her. She watched the Minister drop to his knees before her, his hands folded together. There was no goodness, no mercy to be found in this God-less place. These people of Harmony had made her friendless and destitute when they could have opened their arms to her. No more! Tabitha said to herself. With sorrow she left him praying by the bedside, as if he were in mortal anguish.  
  
Tabitha knew that it costs more pains to be wicked, than it would cost for her to good. What a confounded recourse for her to puzzle herself with. Yet, she thought, I am tumbling into the pit. She rested herself on the edge of town before taking to the long trek back to the cottage in the woods.  
  
Reverand Harlow canceled all his appointments with the usual sinners and saints that day. He later took a hasty carriage to the Crane estate. It was an unusual, unplanned visit, for Alistar had never invited the Minister to his home. When the Reverend was announced, Alistar Crane took him into his study, gave orders for them not to be disturbed. He knew this day was coming. What transpired in that study would wheel the engines of Tabitha's destiny, and the destiny of Harmony residents far into the future.   
  
Without replying a yes or a no to the Minister's account of Tabitha's accusation of rape, Alistar merely unlocked his safe. He took out several documents imprinted with the King's seal and placed them before Reverend Harlow to cast his eyes upon. Reverend Harlow, having been shaken by the shock of being tempted by the woman, took them up and began to read in silence each page before him, making the occasional sign of the cross, much to Alistar's amusement.  
  
The document was the record of the court trial that took place in the year 1689 in London, England. The Reverend stared up at Alistar in shock and disbelief. He continued to read the documents, with a tormented anguish he had never known before. Alistar noticed that the Reverend shed tears upon the last page after reading it.  
  
"Tabitha Lennox, spinster, aged seventeen, was brought to trial in Justice Hall Court in Old Bailey on the fifth of May, 1689. The Lord Mayor of London pronounced sentence on the accused. "We the Judges, by the Mercy of God and the law of England, in the said cause of Justice, find you the accused, Tabitha Lennox guilty of the heinous practice of witchcraft. It is my duty to pass upon you the sentence of the court which our just law enjoins. The sentence of the Court is that you be taken from this place to a place of execution and there be burned at the stake until you are dead.   
And may the Lord have mercy on your soul."   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	11. Whereupon the condemned will be arrested...

Wheels in Motion  
  
Something had happened that day in Harmony, something had altered the motion of the Universe. Tabitha had felt its inextricable force by the time she reached her cottage in the woods that night. She was terribly exhausted and her sensibilities told her that things would get a lot worst before they got better. There was no need to consult the oracles, astrological charts or the crystals to know that ill will would soon come for her.   
  
Weeks passed by without incident until a spring thaw unearthed an ugly picture of things to come that showed itself up early in March. The trails were now open to carriages and foot traffic. All the same, Tabitha felt the disturbing sense that she was in danger. Tabitha had just fallen asleep for a nap when she heard the smashing of a window. Sometimes a bird would misjudge the glass pane of a window and try to fly through it. It would kill itself by the impact. But no, she thought, there were voices just outside. She got herself up off the bed, grabbing the shawl about her shoulders. When she stepped outside the cottage doorway to see what might have happened, there was a group of children a few yards away yelling and calling out to her. They held sticks in their fists, scrambling around the muddy trail for rocks and leftover snow.  
  
"Witch! Witch! Witch!" The group began to chant.  
  
The children seemed to be braving their way closer to her cottage doorway beyond the hedges. One of the eldest boys in the group led the way. The children followed the leader and packed a new arsenal of rocks encased in hard packed muddy snowballs in their mittens.   
  
Her appearance seemed to halt their advance for a few minutes. They gaped at her curiously, expecting an old haggard woman. Instead, they found a young pregnant woman in her shawl staring back at them. Whereby the eldest boy leaped forward without further dealay and slung his snowball with all his force. His aim was true. The rock snowball struck her hard on the shoulder, throwing her back against the doorframe. The pain of the impact knocked the wind out of her. Tabitha clutched at her shoulder and lifted her eyes to stare at the group.   
  
The children hung back, waiting to see what she would do to retaliate.  
  
"Witch!" The eldest boy bravely cried out, having regained his courage. The other children now laughed, tossed theirs off only missing her by a few feet.   
  
"Kill the evil witch!"  
  
Tabitha's heart sunk deep down within her, fear and sadness overwhelmed her whole being and she disappeared behind the door, securing the latch. There was more taunting and she heard the bombardment of rocks against the walls of the cottage for another hour. Tabitha hid herself behind the wall, out of their sights. She hoped they would go away soon. Eventually, the group ran away and scattered when a wagon passed the trail. Not before the boys had torn the new spring plants out of their flats within the cold shed, and had thrown them every which way.  
  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX  
  
The bark Passion Flower had smooth sailing most of the way back from England. Conveying Alistar Stoke Crane's cargo of guns and ammunition to Boston. Jeremiah Fitzgerald had unloaded the cargo in Portland in late March. By the time he reached Harmony in early April. All proceeds from his journey had been placed into the bank account of Alistar Stoke Crane.  
  
"So---" Jeremiah said to Mary Standish, his First Mate's sister as she set a plate of dinner before him. He usually stayed at the Inn while in Harmony. "What news in Harmony?"  
  
"Haven't you heard?" Mary said excitedly while pouring him apple cider. "The town is abuzz!"  
  
Jeremiah laughed congenially, sharing a glance with Mark before shrugging. "I've been kinda busy---"  
  
Mary adjusted her dust cap over her red hair. "It all started when the Magistrates signed a Proclamation of Indecency."  
  
He paused with his fork, ready to hear Mary's latest gossip.  
  
"The Magistrates ordered Tabitha Lennox's child to be taken away at birth and to be adopted by Alistar Crane as his own."  
  
"You're kidding, right?" He placed both hands flat on the table.  
  
"No-I'm not." Mary's face confirmed it. She was not a woman to joke around in any casual manner.  
  
Jeremiah's eyes peered at her. "He has no god damned right to do that. Didn't anyone stop them?"  
  
"Well, a few on the committee like Sam Bennett and Silas Russell had strong opposition. My own Uncle Morgan Standish, along with Abigail Winthrop tried to stop it too-until----well, they had to drop the appeal."   
  
"Why? How is Tabitha? Did she have her child yet?"  
  
"Oh-yes!" Mary blushed deep scarlet. "Her boy child has been sent off to England with Susanna Crane. Tabitha's child was delivered two weeks ago in Harmony jail---without a physician or midwife present, nothing but the jailers." She covered her mouth with the shame and indecency of it all.  
  
"Good God!" Jeremiah punched the table top. "Haven't you women any compassion? Why were there no midwives or women to help her?" Jeremiah ignored his untouched plate of stew. He thrust his chair violently backward with a backhanded shove and stood up.  
  
"What is all this about, Mary? We've been away at sea and you toy with the captain's patience." Mark said. Mark knew his captain fairly well. It seemed to him that his captain had grown fond of the Lennox woman the last time they were in Harmony. He knew this for certain because Jeremiah had asked him to help him purchase a wedding ring while in London. Jeremiah had confessed to him that he wished to marry Tabitha Lennox.  
  
"Well," Mary said blushing with modesty "---considering the circumstances of her being in prison---no decent woman would ever go there!" Mary stared up into the rafters piously. "When the Magistrates arrived, she was into the 4th hour of labor, giving birth to her infant boy. The jailers watched beyond the cell door, impervious to her wicked cries of pain and mock tears. Everyone just stood back and watched for fear of what she might do to them if they came closer."  
  
"This is unbelievable! I can't believe my ears." Jeremia said.  
  
"After the child took its first breath, before Tabitha could take the child into her arms, perhaps to kill it, they unlocked the door and took him straight away---" Mary blushed scarlet at the image of such a scene.   
  
"Holy Christ! That's barbaric! My God, what is wrong with you people?"  
  
"You might think it's harsh, if you didn't know that she was a witch. That's what witches do---kill babies. Save your sympathy. Witches feel no pain." Mary said with the conviction of an expert.  
  
"Oh-sister, and you're sure about that?" Mark said.  
  
There were no words to express Jeremiah's disgust and outrage. He paced the floor, wrenching his cap in his clenched knuckles. The image of poor destitute Tabitha, all alone, with all those men, gaping at her through the bars while she labored in agony to deliver her child. Jeremiah raged internally, that these men could do this, with the support of the whole town. It made his blood boil. "She's not the first unmarried woman to have a child. How could they treat her like a common criminal, like a beast of the field? She's a good woman." His mind wandered to thoughts of his sister Penelope and Alistar Crane. Then, to the vision he had imprinted in his mind during those lonely nights at sea, of Tabitha staring up at the stars.   
  
Mary's eyes fell upon the dashing sea captain. She was attracted by his well fitting uniform, his deep tan and his misplaced gallantry. "No, she is not a good woman. Listen Jeremiah....here...you can read it in the Harmony Gazette, if you don't believe me." Mary fetched the handy newspaper and placed it into Jeremiah's hands.   
  
The sea captain was surely taken with the Lennox whore, Mary thought. Could Jeremiah be the father of Tabitha's bastard? Is that why he takes on about her so violently? No, Mary calculated the dates of conception quickly in her mind. The captain and his ship would have been far away in the West Indies last June. Thank God! Mary was determined to douse his feverish passion for that wicked harlot. "She's been tried and proven guilty of Witchcraft in England. She somehow escaped the death sentence and came here. Harmony will proceed with the execution." Mary pointed the front page article.  
  
His eyes scanned over the newsprint to a woodcut sketch of an ugly old witch with warts, a hooked nose who was about to boil a baby in a cauldron. The picture had accompanied the article. "This is garbage!" Jeremiah crunched the newsprint up in a ball and flung it away.  
  
"No-its true! Alistar Crane showed court documents that had the King's seal. It's all true. Tabitha Lennox is a witch!"  
  
"I don't believe in witches. Alistar Crane is a liar, a thief. How do you think he's gotten hold of my ship, and I am now indebted to him? Why do you think my sister killed herself? He has been a villain to many more women than Tabitha Lennox."  
  
Mary could not believe that Alistar Crane could have seduced Tabitha Lennox. "Lies or not," Mary said, "they are going to execute the sentence of death and burn her at the stake."   
  
"Damnit! This is a travesty!" Jeremiah buttoned up his pea coat and tossed on his cap.  
  
"Evil is being up-rooted from our Christian town." Mary lifted her chin up stoically. She felt a growing irritation against Tabitha for capturing the handsome young sailor's affections before she could. It was going to be difficult to bring him round. Whether he was bewitched, under her spell or not, Mary would be glad when Tabitha was dead.  
  
"By God-I'll stop them!" Jeremiah raged.  
  
"There's nothing you can do. You'll be implicated in her evil schemes---Please Jeremiah! Think of your good family name! It will be dragged down in the mud with her." Mary reached out to Jeremiah and clutched at his strong forearm.  
  
He shrugged her away. "Get away from me, woman."  
  
Mark stood up, but did nothing. He watched his captain pass through the door, and slammed it on his way out.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	12. The condemed has a ray of hope!

Heretic  
  
Jeremiah crossed through town and saw the jailers hammering nails into the final preparations for the scaffold they were building. Erected upon it was a strong mast timber. White pine, Jeremiah knew his masts. Only this timber stake was to be used to tie up an innocent woman for burning at the stake. A crowd of men, women and children had gathered to watch with anticipation.   
  
Harmony jail was an ugly, dirty place. Unclean and muddy with spring rains and horse manuer. His nose picked up the acrid stench of unwashed bodies. Rats scurried through the dark corridors. "Take me to Tabitha Lennox." He demanded of the jailer.  
  
"That is not possible. The prisoner is not allowed any visitors. Strict orders from Alistar Crane." The mild mannered man said.  
  
Jeremiah reached into his pocket and produced a few pound notes which he jammed into the jailer's fist. "I said, take me to Tabitha Lennox! You got that?" He fished around for the last of his meagre pittance of pay that Alistar allowed him for bare sustenance. He slapped the coins into the jailor's greasy palm.  
  
The jailer pocketed the money, then he looked around before leading the sea captain down the corridor. The heavy bolt on the cell clanked and the door swung open.  
"Ten minutes...and don't try anything funny."  
  
Jeremiah saw the shadow of a small figure huddled in the corner of the cell on a heap of straw. She said nothing to him as he approached, apparently asleep or in a daze, or having gotten used to the comings and goings of her jailers. "Tabitha?" He walked across the damp straw in her cell. It was a sickening shock to his sensibilities to see her like this! He had seen slaves treated thusly, chained in mass on board Alistar Crane's other business interest, the importation of slave ships from West Africa. He'd met some of the slave ships newly arrived from the Middle Passage. It was the most inhumane, ghastly sight he had ever seen. He knew that the slavers overcrowded men, women and children together in the hull, chained to one another in filth and stench. Half of them died on the passage before they ever made it to land.  
  
He could see that Tabitha's beautiful hair had been shorn to the roots and she wore the rough hewn sack of the accussed heretic. Her hair would grow back, he told himself. There were blood stains on her dress, bruises on her pale face and the flesh on her ankles was raw and oozing cut from the bite of the iron cuffs. Jeremiah knelt down beside her, taking her hand in his. "We don't have much time...."  
  
She said nothing in reply.  
  
From another dark corner of the cell, Hecuba folded her arms across her chest observing the two. She kept herself invisible to them and sighed. If Tabitha were ever to come over to the dark side, these next few hours would be right moment for her to Invoke the Master and gain her full powers. This dashing sea captain could do nothing but persuade Tabitha to die a mortal death. He could do nothing to save her.   
  
"I'm going to get you out of here---can you stand up?" Jeremiah took her by the arms and tried to lift her up. She was so light in weight now, hardly the vision of a heatlhy new mother he expected to find. Her legs were still manacled, so he placed her down again.  
  
"She can't walk." The jailer said from the other side of the cell door. "I think they broke her ankles---trying to get her to confess her crimes."  
  
Jeremiah swore.  
  
"They held their own trial, going by the expert's book on witches written in Popish days. The Magistrates and the Minister didn't know what else to do." The jailer said. "They said, let the accused be stripped and shaved; to search her person for instruments of witchcraft sewn into her clothes, charms that they make out of the limbs of un-baptized children. They thought she might have hidden charms in private areas---"  
  
Hecuba spat at the jailer. "Idiot! Thinks he's an expert on witches does he? I'll see to him later" But no one would hear her words today. Hecuba knew the Inquisition's rictus on witches and heresy. She was far older than Tabitha and had seen the Inquisition in its heyday in 15th century Germany.   
"Let the judge take note whether she is able to shed tears, when being tortured, although she will be able to assume a tearful aspect and smear her face with spittle to make it appear that she is weeping. And the judge also should take care that she is never left alone without guards, for fear the devil will cause her to kill herself.  
And that her hair should be shaved from every part of her body, the reason for this being that they might hide an object in the hair, or even the most secret parts of the body, which will not be named."  
  
Barbaric times. Hecuba thought. And now these mortals are trying to bring it all back. Hecuba knew they would wait to burn her till she had delivered the next Imperial Wizard. Fools! "When the prisoner is a pregant woman, execution will be delayed until she has given birth." Hecuba felt very badly for Tabitha's suffering, as it reflected the ill-treatment of all fledglings. However, hecuba knew that it was going to take the worst treatment to bring her over to the dark side. Just as Hecuba had predicted, Alistar Crane was satisfied that Tabitha would be executed and die a mortal death. Hecuba had to use this horrible experience to drive Tabitha to save herself, by Invoking the Master.   
  
"They stripped her naked---and examined her." The jailer said with a grin.  
  
"Shut up, you swine!" Jeremiah shouted at the jailer. He turned his back to the cell door and enclosed Tabitha in his arms. She had lost most of her healthy figure in this dungeon at the hands of fools. He brought his lips up to her ear and whispered, just low enough so that the jailer wouldn't overhear. "My sweet angel---what have they done to you? I dreamed about coming back to you. I'm going to get you out of here. We'll leave this hated place and never come back. I promise. Tabitha, won't you speak to me?"  
  
"Sorry, lover." Hecuba admired the sea captain's gallantry toward Tabitha, but she couldn't allow him to alter the inevitable events to come. Tabitha must be brought to the brink of utter despair, to burn at the stake. "Sorry handsome, but that will not happen." Hecuba said to no one's notice.  
  
"Captain-" It was Tabitha's first spoken words. "I can not bear for you to see me like this---" Tabitha turned her face away in shame. "Leave me here and don't look back. You must go before they come after you too. They've taken my child, burned my house---I cannot bear to think of what might happen to you. For pity's sake, my fate is sealed. Leave me here. It is my wish. I have made myself ready. God knows that I am innocent. It is enough."  
  
Hecuba stamped her foot. No! Tabitha! This was not working out the way Hecuba had planned. You shouldn't ally yourself with God! What has God done for you so far? Nothing but suffering and torment. Do not accept his miserable gift of mortal death! Fight it. You must feel the hatred, and Invoke the Master, accept your full Powers. Don't give up so bloody easily. Where is your sense of vengeance? Hecuba chewed on her long fingernails, deep in thought. Tabitha was a hard nut to crack. She didn't think it would take so long for her to come over to the dark side. Hecuba had been convinced that once the Minister turned Tabitha away, and the men had come to take her baby---ugh-how much can fledgling witches endure? Hecuba had had to turn away from that scene.   
  
But perhaps, Hecuba thought, there was still a chance. This dashingly handsome sea captain, who seems to care for Tabitha, might give her some false sense of hope! Yes! Through his obvious affections----and Tabitha is warming to him---Hecuba might have one last card to play.   
  
Hecuba knew there was no way that this one sea captain could halt the execution. But if Tabitha thought he could....Hmmm...and if it turned out that Tabitha were to hear in her last moments that instead the sea captain had betrayed her, and mocked her with the other men....Yes! That's it! That's the answer. Damn, Hecuba, your good.  
  
"Hush-hush now. Everything will be all right, my dearest love." Jeremiah murmured, kissing her bruised cheek, and patting her back like one would comfort a sick child. He could not tell her all that was in his heart, the pleasantries that lovers tell one another. There was no time. That would have to wait for later. From the moment he met Tabitha on the rocks, watching the night sky, he saw something in her that he knew was right and good. He didn't want her out of pity, as Tabitha had justifiably said. Time and Distance had proven to him that it was out of love. He now knew in his heart, that this was the woman for him. He planned to proudly show her off to his crew as his wife, take her to all the foreign seaports like New Orleans and Portugal, to dress her in the finest clothes. He had even planned on raising her child as her own, make a strong brave sailor out of him. And then, night after night in his cabin, his loins burned with longing to make love to her, and for her to make love to him back. He had blushed with his secret thoughts. After all, they had never yet kissed.   
  
"Times up. You'll have to leave, captain." The jailer said.  
  
"You endanger yourself-Jeremiah. Do not torment me with false hopes." Tabitha wept softly.  
  
Jeremiah kissed her softly on her parched lips. "It's not false hope---it's true. Hang on to that. I'll come back to get you. I promise." He hated leaving her there, God, how he hated this treachery.  
  
"Captain-times up." The jailer pointed his pistol at Jeremiah.  
  
"You bloody bastard---" Jeremiah shoved him aside, "If you or anyone ever touches her again, I'll kill you as soon as look at you-take that as a warning, you miserable dog."   
  
Yes, Tabitha. Hecuba mused. Keep the hope alive. She allowed herself to appear to the young prisoner now. "Oh what a brave young man you have there, Tabitha."  
  
"Go away." Tabitha said.  
  
"I'm sure a man of such courageous daring will be able to get you out of here. It's so romantic and sweet. You must be deeply in love with him."  
  
Tabitha didn't trust Hecuba.  
  
"He wants to marry you. And of course you must, once he gets you out of this stink-hole."   
  
Tabitha sighed. "Why can't you get me out of here?"  
  
"Oh-that would be interfering. I have been instructed by the Grand Warlock Crane and the Confederacy of Warlocks not to interfere in this matter. I'm just here as a friend. Besides, it's all up to you, if you would only Invoke the Master." Hecuba smiled. "You must take heart and have faith that your lover will have you out soon, if you don't chose to gain your powers."  
  
"He's not my lover." Tabitha said wistfully.  
  
"No-well, not yet. He surely wishes to be. I couldn't help but read his thoughts,....he's so sweet! I'm swooning with envy. Quite a package of a man...brave, strong, good looking, a fierce fighter and he's passionately in love with you. He wants you, trust me. He wants to raise your boy too---maybe he'll help you get him back. That's a noble fellow. You don't find that type of chivalry in a man these days. Oh, Tabitha if you could have seen the images in his mind---making love to you---it would make you faint. But then, you have no powers, so you cannot see. My dear fledgling sister, take heart. For soon you shall be in the arms of your handsome sea captain."  
  
Tabitha considered Hecuba's honey covered words. Was Hecuba honestly trying to be kind to her? Well, she appreciated it, but did not care for any false hopes. She was ready to die on the morrow. She had withstood the temptation to Invoke the Master and gain her full powers. She had readied herself to die. But what has God done to show her that he understood her suffering? How could God allow this to happen? Oh--Why prolong it with hopeless dreams? She had wanted Jeremiah too, half in love with him already. Should she believe him? Or was he just toying with her, like Alistar Crane? He now worked for Crane. That would be the blackest stroke of all...Could he really save her from this death? Would he risk his life to save her? Who would? It was too good to be true, and yet---she wanted to believe.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	13. The Appeal

  
  
As Maine entered the 18th century, Massachussets had bought up most of the land claims in this wilderness territory, an arrangement which lasted till 1820 when Maine separated from Massachusettes to become a separate state. By law, in 1694 they were still part of the Colony of Massachussettes.  
  
European Immigrants explicitly believed in female inferiority, even the Protestant revolt against the male Catholic hierarchy, convinced of the equality of souls before God, nevertheless insisted on woman's proper subordination within the family.  
  
The old Meeting house was crowded with Magistrates, Governor Phips, Alistar Stoke Crane, the local clergy, Abigail Winthrop, Jeremiah Fitzgerald and the Standish sisters. Jeremiah had contacted Sam Bennett, the Magistrate to call an emergency meeting to stop the execution of Tabitha Lennox. He had know him to be a fair and well liked captain of the army.   
  
The governor of Massachusettes Province, William Phips had journeyed north from Boston overnight. He thought he had seen the last of the witch executions in Salem, having executed some 18 souls before it seemed to get out of hand. However, having gone over the court documents early that morning---he surmised that it was out of his hands and jurisdiction. He sat at the long table in the front of the hall. The meeting had come to order.  
  
"The law in this judgement commands and directs that the sentence of death be carried out to the fullest extent of the law! It is to our peril to alter or fail. The Lennox woman escaped her punishment there, and is by our right as English subjects to carry out sentence as commanded here."  
  
"I protest!" Abigail stood up. "Burning an innocent woman at the stake is unjust, it's a barbaric act of cruelty in any civilized society!"  
  
There were very few executions for witchcraft in England after the Restoration. By the 1680's most witchcraft trials ended in acquittals.  
  
"Let the woman be satisfied with her state of subjection and not take it amiss that she is made inferior to the more distinguished sex." Reverend Harlow quoted John Calvin to the people in the Meeting House. Male voices uttered their agreement.  
  
Abigail glanced at Sam Bennett across the hall on his wooden bench, seated beside Mary Standish and the other Magistrates. She wanted to see his reaction to that statement, whether he shared the opinion with other men. Sam and Abigail had been secretly meeting since that Christmas Ball at the Cranes. Her father would not permit her to court a lowly Magistrate, a mere farmer. As Magistrate, Sam could only share a look of sympathy with Abigail, but said nothing out loud. Abigail sat down with fury.  
  
"No English court since the reign of James the First has burned a witch!" Silas Russell said. "The punishment should be death by hanging."  
  
"Aye-aye" The townspeople agreed.   
  
"The countries of Europe consider witchcraft heresy against their Popish faith and burn them at the stake!" A Magistrate added.   
  
Phips nodded his head. "Yes, it is true. The sentence is an old punishment. Under British law, for which our legal structure is based, those accused of consorting with the devil are considered felons, not heretics. Having committed a crime against the government, the usual sentence is punishable by death by hanging. I am at odds with this strange pronouncement of sentence, however, we must comply and carry out the sentence that has been laid out before us in this most legal of documents."  
  
Jeremiah crushed his hat in his hands. He thought that by bringing this emergency meeting together, that they would come to their senses and appeal the death sentence, perhaps lower it to a fee or jailtime. Now, all they were doing was quibbling with how the death sentence should be carried out! He stood up.  
  
"You people are backward and ignorant to torture any woman as you have done to Tabitha Lennox. You are cut off from the real world, clinging to old superstitions and fears of hobgoblins that do not exist. Our world is not at the center of the Universe! And you people are not fit to judge Tabitha Lennox." Jeremiah had read the writings of Johanness Keplar and Galileo on his road to becoming a modern man, a modern thinker. "To allow a woman to give birth in a filthy jail no better than a beast, without midwives present...shows that you are not capable or fit to determine what is right from wrong." Jeremiah said full of conviction.  
  
Some "Here, here's" could be heard. Alistar Crane twisted around and took a good look at his indentured captain, who had been running his merchant trade between England and the colony. For the first time, he realized that this man was very dangerous.  
  
"You will desist with your outbursts, captain." Governor Phips admonished.  
  
"There's been no proof, no evidence that Tabitha Lennox has harmed anyone or done anything that your untrustworthy document accuses her of. Halt this foolishness once and for all! Let the woman go!"  
  
Childbirth, in a village or town, was a female ritual. The expectant mother would wait for the women who would gather when labor began. Midwife, neighbors and kin stayed with her through her exertion and for several days afterward. Women knew that they faced death with each birth. Ministers reminded them that this was the price for the sin of Eve. Whenever possible, women were attended by other women, for women served as doctors as well.  
  
Reverend Harlow stood up, his head bent low in thought. "There is proof, Captain Fitzgerald." The Minister's face blushed. "I-can attest to it. The woman---had bewitched me."  
  
Everyone gasped with shock. Murmers and whipsers waved through the meeting house.  
  
"Order! This meeting house will come to order!"  
  
"---she nearly tempted me to fall into perdition-a man of God!" The Minister was so ashamed that he collapsed in his seat and commenced weeping like a baby. Alistar Crane's eyebrows raised to the confession, and he smiled with the thought of it.  
  
"Oh-for God's sake!" Jeremiah muttered in utter disgust. "What man in this room can honestly admit that he hasn't found a pretty girl tempting?"  
  
The men fidgeted in their seats, while the women glared at them. Women were often denounced as witches in explicitly sexual terms. The stereotype witch is an independent adult woman who does not conform to the male idea of proper female behaviour. She is assertive; she does not require or give love (though she may enchant) she does not nurture men or children, nor care for the weak. She has the power to defend herself or to curse. This threat is responded to with accusations of witchcraft, in particular of unnatural sexuality.   
  
Stella Standish stood up and agreed. "Tis all true, my Lords. I was there when the wanton whore came to the church and did try her hand at casting a spell to tempt the good Minister. She laid down in his bed inviting him to----to---fornicate with her, like the unclean wicked woman of Satan whom she has had intercourse with!"  
  
Mary Standish glanced over at Jeremiah, hoping he would visualize Tabitha Lennox in that unfavorable light, as she did. She leaned over to him, "Jeremiah, that unclean whorish woman is not for you."  
  
Women who bore children outside of the bounds of marriage faced many burdens. They could be hauled before courts by neighbors and tried for fornication or adultery. Puritan ministers railed against the "uncleanness," the "mother of bastards" for whom the "fire of lust" led to the "fires of hell." More often than not, it was women accusing women of "lewd carriage" and witchcraft. It illustrated the strains of the Protestant emphasis on spiritual equality in a society based on female subordination.  
  
"Here now!" Alistar Stoke Crane cleared his throat and stood up to speak. "Let's get back to the point. What purpose or right has this assemblage to question the court of England on their judgement? Are we to ignore the will of the English court? Our only duty as English citizens lies in carrying out the sentence of death, not hold a new trial. I vote to terminate this ludicrous appeal. The documents clearly point out, without a shadow of a doubt---that Tabitha Lennox was found guilty of burning down a house with 4 innocent souls in it, and she did it by consorting with the Devil."  
  
"He's nothing but a liar, a cheat and a violator of women!" Jeremiah claimed outloud.  
  
"Order---Order! This meeting will come to order!" Governor Phips hammered the gavel on the table. When the room quieted down, they took of vote of yeah's and nays as to whether they should hold a new trial. The nays were overpowering. Phips began to speak.  
  
"As representative of the Crown, I will now conclude this provincial problem and do what I think is appropriate." Phips was not a legal scholar. He was originally a ships captian. He had gained his position by bringing the King a recovered treasure of gold from Spanish ships. As a result of his efforts, the king knighted Phips and appointed him as the first Governor of Massachusetts. On the European continent, witchcraft was generally looked upon as a heresy against the church, and heretics were burned. In England and New England, witchcraft was a civil felony, and felons were hanged. Witchcraft was a hard crime to prove. On the continent of Europe, there were massive witch-hunts.   
  
"Whereas Tabitha Lennox of Harmony in the County of Cumberland in their Majesties Province of Massachusetts in New England held by the Adjournment for our Sovereign Lord and Lady King William and Queen Mary for the said county of Cumberland in Harmony on the 13th of April, has been found guilty to the horrible Crime of Witchcraft. The court and country has found her guilty by the jury and did pass sentence of death by burning at the stake, as these judges have directed.   
  
"I am compelled by law, to deny the petitioners appeal for the accused!" He hammered the gavel. "I uphold the verdict and sentence of punishment contained in this document, that bears the King's seal."  
  
The Meeting house filled with whisperings and some grumbling.   
  
"Therefore, in their Majesties name King William and Mary, by the Grace of God of England Scottland, France and Ireland, King and Queen, defenders of the Faith have judged that Tabitha Lennox be guilty of the Arts called Witchcraft and sorceries that she wickedly and felonioiusly hath used. This shall be your suffcient warrant given under my hand and seal at Harmony, the 13th day of April in the sixth year of Reign of our Sovereign Lord and Lady William and Mary, their Crown and Dignity the form of statute in this case provided---I will and command that upon the morrow between the hours of eight and forenoon, you will safely conduct Tabitha Lennox from her majesty's goal in the Township of Harmony to the place of Execution and there cause her to be burnt at the stake until she be dead, according to the tenure of the law."  
  
Jeremiah didn't wait around to hear the rest. He got up and left. Abigail tried in vain to persuade her father, Lord Winthrop to do something but he quickly hushed her up. Abigail would not look at Sam, who she had fallen in love with. She was angry with him for keeping his silence in the matter.  
  
Hecuba and Prosperina stood soberly in the back of the meeting house, watching the people leave.  
  
"Why won't the fledgling Invoke the Master! Look at how Grand Warlock Crane is basking in his glory....it's enough to bring all witches to an out and out War with the warlocks!"  
  
"Be patient. As I said, Tabitha is almost ready. And Master Crane will soon feel the effects when he loses his power."  
  
"I cannot bear to see another witch burned without Invoking the Master! Most of the women these idiots burned as witches were nothing more than old feeble women. They were not witches, As IF! It's still a terrible insult to our ranks. Although Governor Phips himself has enough blood on his hands, it's a wonder he hasn't joined the dark side..."  
  
"Don't worry about Phips. He'll soon be meeting his real maker." Hecuba said with conviction.  
  
Phips, first governor of Massachusetts, who presided over the Salem witch trials died in 1695.  
  
"What about Tabitha?"  
  
"Yes--well. I have a few more tricks up my sleeve."  
  
"It's too chancy to wait this long. What if she dies a mortal death before she Invokes the Master? We need to bring her over-at once! She is destined to lead the Witches against the tyranny of the Warlocks!" Prosperina said.  
  
"I don't' know about your little rebellion, Prosperina...but I will see that she behaves."  
  
The witches vanished.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
